Return
by superhackaninja5
Summary: "Careful. He may look like a boy, but he's a bloody demon"-After the curse gets rid of Storybrook and everyone goes back to where they came from, the characters forgot one very important thing. Demons always come back-this time is no exception. Au after 3x11.
1. Chapter 1

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:AU post 3x11. After the curse took away all of their memories of Storybrook and Neverland, the Saviour and her family forgot one very important thing. Peter Pan never fails.

Warnings:violence, dark themes, gore, blood, possibly slash and suggestive themes and...I'll come up with others later on.

So, because Once Upon a Time RUINED my life by killing BOTH Peter Pan and Rumplestiltskin, I decided to write this fic to console myself. It will start from the end of episode #x11 when Emma and Henry are chilling in New York and then the rest will be all my creation of what happens next. All my fave characters will show up and well, I dunno if I'll include others. Maybe.

Disclaimer:I don't own anything except the plot. My invention and machinations. Yeah.

* * *

"You forgot something, Mom,"Henry pointed out, jerking his chin at the mug of hot chocolate his mother had just set down in front of him. Emma smiled when she realized what he was talking about.

"Right, cinnamon,"she remembered, picking up a plastic shaker filled with the aforementioned copper powder and handing it to her son. He took it from her with a grin of his own, turning it upside down and shaking it over his drink before setting it back down on the table.

Emma did the same and they clinked their twin mugs together cheerfully before starting to eat. This was their morning routine;tried, true, and _normal_.

* * *

On the roof outside their window, two boys stood watching the mother and son with similarly unreadable expressions.

The shorter of the two had his dark blonde hair tucked behind his ears and it had the appearance of being slightly gelled;a sharp compliment to his Stygian eyes that seemed to be constantly changing colours. His taller companion's features were shadowed by a large tan hood and his lanky, yellowing fringe.

Both appeared woefully out of place in mottled cloaks and flannel scarves wrapped around their necks, in spite of the mid-morning heat. The shorter's cloak was covered with different-coloured patches and looked about two sizes too big for him;the hem reached just past his knees.

"So you brought me back just to see the full extent of your failure?"the taller questioned in a dry tone, hefting a wooden club over his shoulder. His voice betrayed none of the exasperation he was currently feeling.

The other let out a mirthless snicker at his droll manner. "I brought you back, Felix, because I still need you,"he stated matter-of-factly, voice coming out as a heavy British drawl. His fingers rolled between them a jagged white dagger with a black handle as his smouldering eyes remained focused on the open window.

"Their memories are gone now, so they won't see coming what I have planned next,"he declared, upper lip curling into a sneer that looked even more sinister on his youthful features than it would on those of a full-grown man. The corners of Felix's mouth quirked slightly at his next words: "They didn't learn their lesson the first time. Even in death, Peter Pan never fails,"

"Pan never fails,"his subordinate repeated loyally, raising his voice just enough that it would carry through the open window. Pan gave another soft laugh, "We have work to do,"

* * *

"Pan _never_ fails."

Those words floated in through the window and reached Emma's ears, instantly drawing her attention. But when she looked in the direction the voice had come from, there was nothing but an empty rooftop.

"Mom?Is everything all right?"Henry's voice broke into her temporary reverie, sounding concerned. She whipped her head back around to look at him. "Yeah, Henry,"she replied in as reassuring a tone as she could muster, "Everything's fine,"

* * *

Yeah, short start, but next chapter will be longer, I promise. Reviews will motivate me to update faster! Bye.


	2. Chapter 2

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:still don't own. But Peter Pan is still glorious.

I have like nonstop inspiration for this story now. Which is good because my other stories are lagging again. But now that I'm on Christmas vacation I should have more time to write them so yay. Enjoy this next installment.

* * *

**Back in Neverland...**

"_Careful. He may look like a boy, but he's a bloody demon."_

_Emma blinked at that comment, stopping in her tracks to shoot him a swift, searching glance. "You mean that figuratively, don't you?"she questioned shrewdly, arching a light blonde eyebrow._

_The dark-haired pirate stopped as well and shook his head grimly._

"_Unfortunately, no,"he said, eyes glimmering enigmatically, "I mean it quite literally. Pan is a demon-one of the deadliest I've ever met in my life."_

_He paused a moment, trying to think of the best way to articulate exactly how dangerous the enemy they were facing was. After several moments, he finally came up with the appropriate phrasing._

"_Imagine the worst horror you can think of. Then multiply it by about a thousand. That's what his island is going to put you through-that's what you're going to have to face if you make an enemy out of him."_

_The Saviour narrowed her slightly flinty aquamarine eyes at his carefully neutral tone. "It sounds almost as if you admire him,"she commented, obviously attempting to keep any accusation out of her voice. Hook _was_ here to help them, after all._

"_Not admiration, Swan, just...I have experience with our enemy,"Hook corrected her, shrugging his shoulders offhandedly. He met her suspicious gaze without flinching. "And if you really want to get your boy back, you need to know what you're up against."_

_Regina, at Emma's back, let out a small noise of evident derision. "A demon? Please,"the Evil Queen scoffed disparagingly, cracking her knuckles in what was probably supposed to be a threatening manner, "How much trouble could one teenage boy be?"_

"_Regina, maybe you shouldn't-"Mary Margaret started to discourage her, but Hook interrupted,"It's quite all right. The Queen can believe what she wants-but you'll all see what I mean soon enough. Pan is much, much more than just any teenager, and you'd be a fool to underestimate him,"_

_Emma held up a placating hand. "Well, let's just worry about finding Pan-and then we can decide how much of a threat he really is,"she offered a hasty compromise to get them moving and back on track._

_The rag-tag group all seemed to agree with that and followed the Saviour out of the clearing. Emma, though, couldn't seem to get Hook's words out of her head. She waited until Regina and her parents were ahead of her then she pulled the leather-clad pirate aside._

"_You know Pan better than any of us do, right?"she asked out of the corner of her mouth, attempting to maintain her composure. The pirate inclined his head, "Besides the Dark One, yeah, I daresay I do,"_

_Emma inhaled deeply. "Then tell me more about him. I need to know,"she pressed him insistently for more information, "You say he's a demon? I want to know exactly what that means,"_

_The pirate stared back at her, seeing nothing but conviction on her vaguely flushed face. He considered for a moment, then held out his palm-and hook-in a gesture of surrender. "Just remember you asked for it,"he warned before complying with her demand._

"_When I said he was a demon, I was just being kind. The truth is,''demon'' is a compliment,"Hook told the Saviour softly, voice thoughtful. "Not even a demon would be as power-hungry, or as ruthless as Peter Pan."_

_The Saviour didn't want to believe what he was saying;she didn't want to believe that her son was really in the hands of someone so terrible. In lieu of any other options, though, she didn't really have any choice but to take the pirate at his word._

_She took a deep, measured breath. "So what do you propose we do, then?"she queried curiously, clenching her hand over the sword Hook had given her to stop it from trembling-the sword that used to belong to Neal, "He's got to have some weakness, hasn't he?" _

_Her companion gave a heavy, helpless sigh. "no, he hasn't. Or, at least, none that I can think of,"he replied bleakly, pulling out his hip-flask and offering it to her in a conciliatory manner._

_He truly wished that he was exaggerating, but there was no getting around it. Pan really was a demon-and crossing him was just about the dumbest thing you could do. Yet, here he was, doing just that._

* * *

**Present Day**

Captain Killian Jones, aka "Hook", stood behind the helm of his ship, the _Jolly Roger_, staring out at the black sea, stretching out in front of him. In the middle of the night, while the stars were shrouded by dark clouds, it appeared almost opaque and it was impossible to see beneath the surface-but that wasn't the pirate's concern.

He still remembered the last year;from aligning himself with the Evil Queen's mother to get his revenge on the Dark One to arriving in Storybrooke and falling in love with the Saviour. Worst of all, he remembered what had brought him back home;the Dark curse Pan had enacted and the Evil Queen had tried to stop after Pan's death. It was supposed to have taken his memories, but he still had them-_all _of them.

"I wanted you to keep them."

Hook was startled out of his trance by a familiar British accent. He turned around warily and found himself face-to-face with the villain who had ripped him and Emma apart.

"You,"he stated in horror, "You were dead." He didn't bother with any pleasantries;there really was no need for them at this point.

The blonde teen standing behind him a cocky, white-toothed grin. "Come on now, Captain. You knew me better than they did. Did you really think it was over?"he chided mockingly, dark eyes gleaming with childish amusement.

The pirate refrained from grimacing with an extreme effort. "A pirate can always hope,"he muttered grimly, clenching his fist. He let out a vaguely exaggerated sigh. "So what are you doing _here_?Shouldn't you be back in Neverland, building up your army again?"

Peter's smile flickered briefly at the mention of his Lost Boys, but in a second, it was firmly back in place. "That won't be a problem,"he dismissed the quip flippantly, "What will be is _you_."

"Me?"Hook quoted, arching a puzzled eyebrow. "Why, because I still remember what you did?I thought you wanted me to," "Oh, I did,"Pan confirmed maliciously, dark eyes glimmering beneath his gold lashes, "I wanted you to remember everything-just not the same way it was,"

A frown of consternation wrinkled the Captain's forehead. "What is that supposed to mean?"he questioned suspiciously, hand subtly shifting to grip the handle of his cutlass.

The former leader of the Lost Boys suddenly appeared right in front of him, standing close so that they were nearly nose-to-nose. "I"m going to offer you my deal a second time, Captain,"he stated, deliberately ignoring his question. His smile turned crooked. "Only this time, if you don't take my deal, Emma will be the one to suffer the consequences."

Hook probably should have felt more enraged;after all, Pan was threatening the woman he-might-have loved. Pan was definitely _expecting_ him to be furious, so he acted exactly the opposite. "And what if I'm still not interested?"he shot back with an air of feigned calm.

He could tell that the blonde boy didn't buy it, though-and he called his bluff. "Like I've said before, I like action-and it seems to me that you respond best to it, so let me put in plainer terms for you. You have twenty-four hours to make your decision-or the oblivious Saviour won't be saving anyone ever again,"

"You mean you'll kill her,"the pirate surmised with a surprising amount of venom. Pan snickered darkly. "Oh no, not me personally-but I can't speak for my new friends,"he defended carelessly, not bothering to hide his delight.

The _Jolly Roger_'s captain had to force himself not to recoil when Pan's breath rushed heatedly past his left ear. "Twenty-four hours, Killian, and that's all,"the immortal intoned softly, "Tick tock,"

He vanished after that elegant parting sentence, as seamlessly as if he had never been there at all.

Once he was gone, Hook let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He let his hand drop form the handle of his sword and exhaled a second time.

As unlikely as it had seemed, he really should have seen this coming. After all the time he'd spent with the villain, he really should have known that Pan was still alive. He was a true demon-and demons always found a way of coming back.

Now he only had a day to make a life-changing decision:make a deal with the Devil-or sacrifice Emma Swan. It seemed his usually foolproof survival instincts were failing him miserably these days.

* * *

**New York City, New York**

Emma walked Henry down to the lobby of their apartment building, carrying his school bag in one hand and a steaming thermos full of coffee in the other. Another part of their morning routine;bringing her son down to catch the bus to take him to school.

As she traipsed through the lobby, her mind was filled with memories of the last ten years;from changing her mind about giving her son up to moving to New York and deciding to raise him here. Henry was her whole world;she hadn't even allowed herself to get a boyfriend for fear of losing even a single moment with him.

The last ten years of her life, _their _life had been good, though. She had been happy taking care of Henry and putting him first-and she'd never regretted her decision to keep him once.

Every morning had been a good one since she'd had Henry;but somehow, this one was different. For some reason, she just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that, somewhere, somehow, there was danger coming-and it was coming for Henry.

If there was one thing she'd learned in being a mother, it was that, when it came to her child's safety, she should _always_ trust her instincts.

When they reached the glass-paned door, the brown-haired boy held out a hand expectantly for his backpack. "I'm going to be late, Mom,"he urged her when she didn't immediately hand it over.

His mother started at the sound of his voice, as if being woken from a trance or something. "Right, sorry,"she said, hastily giving Henry the pack without any further ado.

As the boy pulled the straps over his shoulders, he cast his mother a carefully assessing glance. "Are you sure you're okay, Mom?You've been acting weird all morning,"he pointed out, forehead creasing in a worried expression..

Emma's brow furrowed at the care in her son's tone. Unbelievable;she was feeling like he was in danger and _he _was worried about _her._

She lowered herself down to his eye level, gripping his shoulders tightly. "No, I'm not okay, Henry,"she admitted quietly, glancing around her warily, "I've been getting this sketchy sensation and I want you to be careful, all right?Something just isn't right today,"

Henry nodded his understanding of her words. "Of course I'll be careful,"he reassured her honestly, squeezing her hand on his shoulder, "But you're going to have to explain this better when I get home,"

Emma chuckled lightly at his lackadaisical tone and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, kid,"she whispered, kissing the top of his head affectionately.

"I love you, too,"Henry replied before gently extricating himself from her embrace, "But I have to get to school," He blew her a quick kiss before running out to catch his bus.

Just as he was walking out of the door, though, he felt an odd prickling sensation at the back of his neck, almost as if he was being watched. He stopped on the bottom step of the entrance to the school bus and swept a scrutinizing look around him.

When his eyes fell on the roof of the building next to his and Emma's apartment, he had to blink to make sure that they were working properly. For a moment there, he could have sworn that he'd seen a boy standing there-but that couldn't have been real.

Shaking himself, he climbed the rest of the way into the bus and set down, rubbing his eyes. There couldn't have been a boy standing on the roof, he told himself firmly, Because there was no way anyone could have gotten up there.

Was there?

* * *

With the New York sun rising behind him, the title "demon" really did seem to do the first Lost Boy justice.

His eyes appeared to darken to the point of resembling molten metal, simmering under the row of translucent gold lashes. Also, his skin seemed to shimmer, exposing the reality of just how inhuman he really was.

As he watched the Truest Believer exit the apartment he shared with his birth mother, a truly bestial smirk curved the corners of his full lips. He had become so complacent in his ignorance;he had no idea just how abnormal his life was about to become.

Casting a smug look over his shoulder at the hooded Felix who still stood at his side, he uttered the two words that had really begun everything:

"Let's play."

* * *

And that was the second chapter. I LOVE PETER PAN. And in reviews please give me ideas for the names of new Lost Boys.

Also question:should I bring back Rumplestiltskin or no?

Done.


	3. Chapter 3

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:still don't own. But Peter Pan is still glorious.

Okay, I'm going to address a few things before I start this chapter. One:In this fic, Peter Pan is NOT Rumplestiltskin's father. As much as that plot twist sent everything spinning on its axis and tied everything together, I just don't like it. There's going to be a different reason why the Dark One dagger and Rumple dying was the only way he could be killed to be revealed in a later chapter. Two:Yes, I do realize that everyone who went back to the Enchanted Forest got to keep their memories, but Hook isn't going to remember it that way. Since he didn't come from the same part of the EF as everyone else, he remembered it differently and he didn't get sent back to the same place as everyone else. Pan got in his head and screwed with his memories so he would be more inclined to work with him. Three:Anyone who's reading this for Captain Swan, I shall warn you now:I hate that ship with a burning passion and if I involve it, it will only be to rip to shreds.

There. I think that should clear any inconsistencies up. I'm still debating about whether or not I should bring Rumplestiltskin back. Survey anyone?

* * *

**The Enchanted Forest...**

_From out of nowhere, clouds of green smoke began to fill the air. All around the fairy tale land, people began to panic. They all thought another curse was upon them and, after what the first one had done,they didn't want to find out what this one would._

_Fortunately for them, when the mist had dissipated, there was no new carnage, no raging inferno and they all still possessed their memories. What the smoke revealed instead was a group of mixed men and women. A group of very familiar men and women._

Snow blinked her aquamarine eyes as she gradually awoke from the depths of unconsciousness. She felt cold, hard earth under face;more than that, she tasted dirt, not asphalt. She was definitely not Storybrooke anymore.

She carefully pulled herself to her feet, brushing back tendrils of her long, dark hair-wait, long?She cast a look at her shoulders and found curtains of black curls hanging over them;her hair was indeed long again. But that wasn't all.

When she looked down at her body, she wasn't wearing her ordinary clothes anymore. Instead, she was clad in the same clothes she'd worn before taking the throne;a white tunic, cloak, boots, breeches and gloves. Everything left from her time in the human world was gone-except for her memories.

Behind her, she heard the distinct sounds of someone else stirring. Inhaling deeply, she turned around to find out who it was.

Her husband, Prince Charming-David Nolan, to those back in the human world-was getting to his feet as well, dusting off the front of his pants. He, too was once again dressed in his fairy-tale garb;no more jeans and flannel shirts for him.

Around them, the rest of their friends from Storybrooke;the Dwarves, Baelfire, Ariel, Red, Eric, Granny, Belle and even Regina were all awakening from their curse-induced slumber and pulling themselves back into standing positions. Small consolation;at least she wasn't alone.

Seeing his wife, Charming came to stand at her side while the others slowly regained their bearings. Snow was casting her gaze over their surroundings;she saw trees and a familiar archway and the acid smoke still hung in the air.

Seeing all of these things again and adding to the fact that they were all back in their Enchanted Forest clothes, the Princess could only draw one conclusion.

"We're back,"she broke the tense silence with a vain attempt at concealing the tremble in her voice.

Charming placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "At least we're safe from Pan,"he told her in a conciliatory tone, squeezing her gently, "At least he's gone now and Emma and Henry are okay-"

"That's not, strictly speaking true,"a frigid Irish accent punctuated the air;an accent that also gave her a strange jolt of recognition.

Suddenly, the smoke cleared entirely and the Charmings and company found themselves surrounded by familiar brown-cloaked figures. But that wasn't the biggest shock;no, the biggest shock was seeing who was leading them.

He stepped out of the shadows and into their sight line. Snow's eyes went wide when she saw that he was wearing the exact same clothes he had been the last time she'd seen him-the same clothes he'd been wearing when he died.

"Graham?"she quipped with equal amounts of shock and disbelief at looking into the eyes of the late Sheriff of Storybrooke. The Huntsman;only he no longer looked like the same man she'd known.

There was a darkness in his smoky blue orbs now;a maliciousness that had definitely never been there before. Something had changed in him;Snow just wasn't sure what yet.

"Graham, what are you doing here?More importantly, _how_ are you here?"the prince queried incredulously, taking over because his wife was obviously too speechless to say another word. He understood that;even in the Enchanted Forest, people coming back from the dead wasn't exactly a regular occurrence-especially not people who had died in the mortal world.

The Huntsman took a slow, almost languid step toward him, appearing deceptively nonthreatening with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Charming wasn't taking any chances, though;the minute he came too close, the prince drew his sword warningly. "Not another step until you answer my question,"David intoned firmly, stepping defensively in front of his wife.

Graham chuckled lowly, backing up with his palms raised in a gesture of mock surrender and a faint smile curving his lips.

"I'm afraid, Your Majesties, that you've been away a little too long to still have the authority to be giving orders around here," His smile turned crooked, "As for what I'm doing here, we were told to expect you back-" "Who is ''we''?Who are these people?"Mary Margaret cut him off, apparently finding her voice again in time to join in the interrogation.

Graham clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You mean you don't recognize them?"he swept his hand in the direction of his cloaked companions with another mirthless laugh, "That's a shame, because they've been so looking forward to seeing you,"

"Tell us who they are,"the prince hissed forcefully, invading Graham's personal space and pressing the point of his sword against his throat threateningly.

The former Sheriff grinned winningly, showing his vaguely canine teeth. "Meet the new Lost Boys,"he whispered. He snapped his fingers at his companions, "Take them,"

In a second, the cloaked band of boys were on the new arrivals. They were roughly seized from all sides with no chance of fighting back-not that they didn't try, of course.

There was a loud clatter as David's sword was wrested from his hand and it fell to the ground at Graham's feet as he was dragged bodily away from the taller male to join his now captive friends and family. He huffed angrily, trying to wrench himself away from his holders, but their grip was too strong and his struggles came to no avail.

The Huntsman picked his sword up off of the dirt and rested it casually against his right shoulder before addressing the Lost Boys, "You know what to do with them," He turned on his heel and began to walk away-but then, as if suddenly remembering something, he halted and called over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Peter Pan sends his regards,"he uttered the absolute last words they wanted to hear, leaving the thinly veiled assumption hanging in the air as they were all taken away from their landing site.

* * *

**The Remains of Storybrooke...**

_The ground was, as far as the eye could see, scorched;streaked with black and littered with little piles of ashes and cinders. Looking around, you'd never guess that a town had once stood in this vast stretch of open road-but one had._

_This was where the town of Storybrooke, Maine had once stood._

_A lone boy was stationed amidst the charred ruins, face covered by the hood of pied, patched cloak. Darkness surrounded him like a shroud, adding the aura of the supernatural to the abyss._

_Black fog swirled in a dark funnel next to him;with a bright flash, it morphed into a column of copper flames. The resultant glow illuminated the dark night and the empty streets and the desolate foliage on the outskirts of the square._

_Into the darkness, the cloaked boy spoke, lilting British accent issuing out from underneath his hood, shaping words that definitely did not belong to this modern age. And then, from within his cloak, he withdrew a wooden pipe and began to play._

_The fire roiled and spread and burned even brighter as each sepulchral note pierced the night air, ringing out clearly in the dead silence. The black mist lightened into a virulent acid green and began to trail out of the boy's pipe, cascading into the sky above-and the ground below._

_A single thin, jade tendril found its way to where the well had once been and vanished into the center of the remaining obsidian ring on the asphalt. Cracks began to appear in the ground, accompanied by crimson tracery that bore an uncanny resemblance to the colour of blood._

_As the piper continued to play, the music increased in volume and the crimson cracks widened, as if prompted. When the music reached a crescendo, the ground split in two, opening into a giant, neverending cavern._

_The green smoke rose from within the aperture and began to take on corporeal form. Long, muscled arms and legs, a pale face with a single scar on one side;tall form wrapped entirely in a mottled brown cloak with a tattered hood that covered nearly half his face when he lowered his head._

_When the shadows and smoke had fully coalesced into that familiar male figure, the piper halted his playing and cast a look around at the eight boys who had gathered around the roaring fire._

_A satisfied smirk curled his pink lips. Air rushed as he reappeared before the boy who he had conjured from the mist;he pushed back his auburn hood and greeted the taller cordially:_

"_Welcome back, Felix."_

_The still-hooded figure drew himself up to his full height, a wooden club materializing out of the smoke into his hand, before focusing his full attention on his former leader. "Pan,"he returned the greeting with his usual lack of emotion. His eyes roamed critically over their companions, "I see the traitors are being replaced,"_

_Pan inclined his dark blonde head in an affirmative. _

"_The Dark One, the Evil Queen and the Saviour took away my family and my victory. So, now I figure, it's time for me to do the same to them,"he declared maliciously, eyes gleaming brightly with the reflected firelight._

_His subordinate gave a low, sinister chuckle that seemed to agree wholly with that sentiment-but that didn't appear to be enough because Pan's next question was: "What about you, Felix? Do I have to start looking for your replacement, too?"_

_Felix's lips twitched in what appeared to be amusement at that question. "Of course not,"he scoffed as if affronted by the mere suggestion of his loyalty wavering, "You didn't really think a little thing like killing me would be enough to make me leave, did you?"_

"_No,"the shorter boy commented carelessly, a single corner of his mouth lifting at the clear offense in his companion's tone._

_While the two former Lost Boys conversed, the others continued to dance wildly around the fire, reminiscent of the originals. They were all in their nightclothes, faces illuminated by the orange glow._

"_So what's the plan this time?"Felix questioned curiously, resting his club on the ridge of his shoulder while he waited for an answer._

_Pan's slight smirk evolved into a fully-fledged smirk that looked all the more twisted on his deceptively youthful features._

"_This time, the game is on a new stage;one of multiple realms,"the demon announced softly, looking up through his thin lashes. He paused briefly before continuing, "They think that just retaining their memories means that they won. Well, I'm going to make them wish that that was all I stole from them,"_

_He turned away from the roaring fire and made his way to the previous location of the town line, beckoning Felix to his side before using his powers to invade everyone's minds. His voice filled all of their heads, dark and reverberating and impossible to ignore._

"_This time, the Heart of the Truest Believer will be blackened;a Dark Heart that will belong to me and only me. And when I have bent him to my will and his family comes to try and rescue him again, he will be the instrument of their demise."_

"_**You all belong to me now**."_

_Together, he and Felix stepped over the flashing line crossing over into the real world. The curse of the town was gone;it was time to create a new one._

* * *

The _Jolly Roger _docked just as the sun was rising over the tops of the evergreen trees. It had been quite awhile since the ship had seen these familiar waters-and its captain wasn't exactly thrilled to be back.

He'd thought it would be possible for him to find peace after he'd made the Dark One pay for what he'd done;after he'd killed Rumplestiltskin. Realistically, though, he'd known that was never going to happen-especially once Peter Pan had come into the equation.

The demon had never been what Hook would call a friend, but before, he hadn't been an enemy, either. At least, not until the pirate had made the mistake of making him one. Now the price was either going to be Emma Swan's life-or his soul.

Strangely, though, the option of just not taking Pan's deal and letting Emma die wasn't all that unattractive. It should have been;he shouldn't even have been considering it-considering he had gotten himself into this mess to try and win her over-but yet, he didn't feel that overwhelming, all-consuming need to save her over himself. To be quite honest, he hardly felt anything at all-at least, where Emma was concerned.

In a bizarre paradox, though, he found himself almost still wanting to take Pan's deal-but not to save Emma's life. Although she was _part _of the reason;she'd said that, according to the stories of her world, _he_ was meant to be the real villain, not Pan. Thinking back to that conversation, it made him wonder what it would be like to really be the villain-to do more than simply be trying to kill someone who had been put into the hero category or just bounce from benefactor to benefactor depending on who could help him do so.

He'd briefly seen the bad guys side of things when he used to work for Pan and found that he didn't really have the taste for it. But somehow, things were different now;something had changed to make him want to give it another shot.

"So I gather you've made your decision, then."

Hook didn't even pretend to be surprised when that soft, lilting British accent broke into his thoughts, coming from the other side of his ship.

He turned around and found the demon leaning casually up against one of the wooden pillars with his thumbs hooked in his belt and one of his ankles tucked behind the other. Hook never could tell if the relaxed act was a front, or if he really was just that nonchalant about everything.

Amusement quirked at the corners of Pan's mouth when he caught the pirate staring as if trying to figure it out. "You won't, you know,"he pointed out cockily, baring his teeth in a grin.

Hook blinked at the bluntness of his tone and cocked a curious eyebrow. "Won't what, exactly?"he quipped with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You won't be able wriggle your way out of this unscathed-not like you did the last time,"the blonde boy amended what he'd originally intended to say with a falsely innocent expression on his pale features. He huffed out a quiet laugh when the pirate's other eyebrow rose to join the first. "You're caught, Captain. The question is, do you want to be in my cage-or one of your own?"

The pirate's frown only deepened at that. There was a riddle or a trap in there somewhere;Pan's deals never came without some fine print he hadn't revealed before. That was just the way things worked with something like him. Pan's games always held unseen twists-that was what made playing them so dangerous.

He let out a mirthless chuckle when he realized that that was truly what it would mean to play the villain. Always staying ten steps ahead of everyone;no apologies, no regrets, and no consideration for anyone but himself. This was exactly what he wanted to experience for himself.

He allowed his frown to dissipate, smoothing his expression into one of careful neutrality and lifting one of his leather-clad shoulders in a shrug. "You've told me what will happen if I _don't_ take your little deal, but what about if I do?What exactly is in it for me?"he questioned mildly, still giving no indication as to whether he was accepting or declining the proposal.

Pan's ever-changing eyes practically glowed with mischief. "Good point,"he agreed, pushing himself off of the pillar and taking a slow step forward, unfolding his arms as he did so.

In three strides, he'd closed the distance between them, somehow managing to stare the pirate down, even being the shorter of the two. "How about the power to cross realms without a portal?"Peter offered smilingly, but with a hint of danger. "Or a little magic to increase the ease of your tasks?"

When Hook still didn't give an answer, Pan's voice lowered into an almost hiss, "_Or how about your life_?"He snickered darkly, "It's more than someone like you deserves,"

This time, it was Hook who did the advancing, leaning forward so he could loom over the 14-in looks only-year old. "Not exactly the way to win me over, mate,"he intoned quietly, lowering his lip[s next to the boy's ear and aiming the tip of his hook at his neck. He gave another quiet, humourless chuckle. "But I'll take that magic as long as you're offering."

Pan's lips curved into a victorious smirk. "An agreement, then?"he quipped cheekily, looking up through his lashes as he pulled Hook's flask from his belt and holding it up invitingly, in a wordless question.

Hook stepped back, out of Pan's reach, taking the flask from him and taking a short swig after removing the cap;the equivalent of a handshake for them. He saw Pan's eyes darken at his acceptance and felt an odd sense of accomplishment-one that he couldn't explain.

Lowering the flask and tucking it back in its place, the one-handed pirate observed Pan's clearly satisfied look, at odds with the gleaming, zealous glow in his eyes. "So,"he said, breaking the silence, "You mentioned making some new friends. I don't suppose you'd tell me who they are?"

The blonde boy's smirk returned, and made him think of a child pulling the wings off of a butterfly. "I can show you much better than I can tell you;you'd never believe the simple words,"he suggested enigmatically, flicking his longest fingers in a beckoning gesture.

Hook joined him silently, his curiosity getting the better of him. Pan grasped his shoulder and did what he'd never thought would be possible;they crossed realms without any magic beans or anything of that sort.

They landed in what Hook assumed was the remains of Neverland. In Pan's absence, the island had fallen into complete ruin. It was strange;he'd only ever seen the place in its full glory-seeing it like this, it just didn't seem right.

As if reading his mind, his companion-the island's consummate ruler-waved a hand, coiled with magic, in front of him with a rather grandiose flourish. Hook saw a wave of thick, incorporeal liquid sweep over the land and before his eyes, the cursed island began to restore itself.

Time itself appeared to run in reverse;fallen trees were re-erected, crushed stones were re-formed, ashes returned to their original states and charred grass and dirt grew back over the grimy Earth. Within mere seconds, the entire island was returned to its former haunting splendour.

Pan chuckled at catching sight of the wide-eyed astonishment on the pirate's stubbled face. He clicked his fingers, conjuring a faint hint of effervescent sparks. "And you thought you'd seen the full extent of my powers,"he chided mockingly before sauntering off into the jungle, leaving Hook to follow at his heels.

They wove quickly through the familiar maze of brush and foliage, Pan obviously making allowances so Hook could keep up since he was the only one who knew where they were going. Hook laughed inwardly at the series of ironies his life had become;the last time he was here, all he'd wanted was to escape from the island and Pan-and here he was, wandering back into its heart with only Pan as his guide and protection.

With the stars as their only source of light, thanks to the island's perpetual twilight, the boy led them to the previous site of his hideout, where there was a circle of lit torches waiting for them-and that wasn't the only thing, either.

Hook found himself surrounded by easily recognizable tattered brown cloaks. But the faces were definitely _un_familiar-and two very surprising ones.

Easily identifiable-and unsurprising-was Pan's right-hand man, Felix;the other familiar face, though, was the one he was having the most difficulty believing.

As Felix took his place at Peter Pan's side, their leader hastened to introduce everyone. "Meet my new Lost Boys;the late Sheriff Graham of Storybrooke,"he gestured to the copper-haired man clad in a leather jacket, slacks and a grey button-down before doing the same to the last figure-who also happened to be the only female. "And you two already know each other, I believe."

Hook inclined his head in an affirmative. "Maleficent,"he greeted the curly-haired sorceress cordially, "Free from whatever it was the Queen did to you, I see,"

"She has me to thank for that,"Pan put in before the woman could even open her mouth, tossing her a gloating look over his shoulder before switching topics. "Now that we're all acquainted, let's get a move on, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, the demon strolled into the center of the motley crew of villains and addressed them all. "I came back from the land of the dead to take back what was stolen from me,"he announced in a quiet, yet carrying tone, eyes filling with the menace and malignancy that Hook knew so well. "My victory, my life, my family;they stole _everything_. But now, I have the power to take it all back. And, thanks to me, so do all of you. You can take back what is rightfully yours and make the thieves who took it from you pay."

The Lost Boys cheered loudly, whooping and punching their fists in the air while Maleficent and the Huntsman demurely applauded. Amidst all of this, Hook found himself wondering how exactly Pan planned on making good on that promise.

And more importantly, how had he returned from the dead in the first place?

* * *

Ha there I finished this chapter. Now I can debate properly on several of my issues. Hope you enjoyed and review if anyone feels like it, I guess.

Au revoir.


	4. Chapter 4

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:I do not own. If I did, this story would be canon. And Captain Pan would be a thing.

This story has bloody taken over my life. I don't have inspiration for like anything else and it is like so weird. But I guess it's good for everyone who's reading this. And on another note, Henry Mills is like so fucking bi-polar. I mean, like in the first season he was all like "Oh I hate Regina she's not my mother I want to run away from her"and then all of a sudden, in the second season BOOM all he wants to do is save her. I mean like the hell?

AND THERE NEEDS TO BE WAY MORE CAPTAIN PAN FANFICS!This may well become one.

* * *

All day, ever since he'd thought he'd seen that boy on the roof, Henry's mind had been elsewhere. He hadn't been able to pay attention during class or to his friends at recess. People had asked repeatedly if something was wrong, but he'd said there wasn't-because truthfully, he didn't know if something _was_ wrong. Not yet, anyways.

When he returned home, his mother was waiting for him outside of their apartment, watching the road with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her expression changed when she saw him, though.

"Hey, kid,"she greeted him with an attempt at a smile, unfolding her arms so she could pull him into a quick one-armed embrace. "Hey,"he returned her greeting and the hug before tugging her toward the door, "So, ready to tell me what you were warning me about this morning?"

Emma's forehead creased in a guilty frown. "You're still thinking about that, huh?"she said with ill-concealed trepidation;she'd been hoping he had forgotten about her odd behaviour by now. When Henry glared back at her, she let out a sigh and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know what else to tell you, Henry. I just had a bad feeling, that's all."

"Well, are you still having it?"Henry questioned curiously, taking her hand as they entered the elevator and she punched in the button for their floor.

Casting a brief look around to make sure no one else was getting into the elevator before the doors closed, Emma exhaled heavily, weighing her words carefully. She wanted to tell him '''no'' so that he would put it out of his mind-but she had never really been the best liar, especially when it came to Henry. He, most of all, would see right through her.

"Yes,"she admitted tensely after a moment or two's silence, shaking her blonde head, "And I can't explain it, but it just seems to be getting stronger by the minute,"

As they walked into their apartment and Emma locked the door behind them, Henry got that same feeling of being watched again. He started to understand what his mom was talking about and he turned back around to face her.

"Mom, is there any way of getting onto the roof of that building next door?"he questioned on a whim, pointing at their living room window.

Emma raised an eyebrow at his seemingly random inquiry and followed his finger to see what building he meant. "I don't think so;a fire destroyed the entire internal structure a few months ago,"she told him honestly, meeting his innocent brown eyes, "Why?"

Henry pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Because I could have sworn I saw someone up there before I got on the bus this morning,"he explained, keen to just forget about it now.

But something about the way his mom's expression changed again gave him pause. She looked almost...scared.

Henry blinked;that didn't make sense. He was pretty sure he'd never seen his mom look like that before;she'd never had a reason to, as far as he could remember.

So what were these fragmented memories that were suddenly streaming through his head like film on fast-forward?

Disjointed images swam before his eyes, images of a dense forest with gnarled trees and thorns dripping with poison that could kill with a single touch. Holding his own heart in his hand, the organ thrumming with power.

_The heart of the Truest Believer_

He could hear his mother talking to him, but he could also hear another voice. A male voice with a refined British accent;a deceptively earnest, youthful voice.

There were flashes of windswept dark blonde hair. A tattered green tunic-and Stygian, ever-changing eyes. Eyes that were sometimes blue like the sea after a storm, sometimes green like roiling acid. And other times, were black as night so looking into them was like staring into a swirling abyss.

_You need to give me your heart, Henry_

"Henry!"his mom's voice finally shattered the spell and Henry found himself staring into her pale face contorted into an obviously concerned expression.

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and shook Emma''s hand off of his shoulder. "It's fine, Mom. I'm fine,"he reassured her breathlessly, trying to sound as though he meant it.

Emma shot him a disbelieving look. "What happened?"she pressed him insistently, crossing her arms over his chest. She didn't believe him for a second.

Henry sighed. "I just...got lost in my mind for a second there,"he confessed carefully. That was at least true;what he didn't say was that the face that had just appeared in his mind, the one that sent shivers down his spine, the one that looked so familiar, well, he was pretty sure it was the same face he had seen watching him that very morning.

_You can hear the music now, can't you, Henry?_

As if drawn to it, Henry cast a glance outside their window at the roof of the derelict building, searching for, well, he didn't really know what. This time, though, there really was nothing there.

The roof was deserted-as well it should be.

_The game is about to get...interesting._

* * *

**Storybrooke, Maine**

_The two boys were poised at the edge of the cursed town, overlooking it with bland, insipid eyes._

_They made a rather odd pair;the short brunette clad in jeans, a plaid button down and navy blue coat and the taller in a grimy black cloak and tights. It was almost as if they were a study in contrast._

"_A curse?"the blonde broke the silence sceptically as his companion unrolled the small scroll in his hands. "No, Felix,_the _curse,"the other corrected him, "The curse that tore every one from the Enchanted Forest and dropped them here,"_

_Felix shot him a dry look over his shoulder. "You broke me out of jail to tell me how everyone got to this town?"he quipped, arching one of his dirty blonde eyebrows._

"_I broke you out of jail because this spell is going to give us everything we've always wanted,"the brown-haired boy declared with a malevolence that belied his youthful features. He turned back to Felix, "Everyone will forget who they are. Time will stand still. And, Felix, we will be in charge,"_

"_Of this whole place,"Felix surmised with a cruel grin. His companion inclined his head. "Yes,"he confirmed, "And when we're done with it, it's going to be the New Neverland,"_

Pan was once again in that exact same spot. Only this time, he was alone-and instead of overlooking an entire town, he was gazing down at a wasteland. The Dark Curse had done everything he'd expected it to-except for what he'd really wanted. He hadn't been around to reap the rewards, so its effects were irrelevant.

But he had another chance now-another opportunity to make the former inhabitants of Storybrooke pay for ever daring to challenge him. He had a new Dark Curse, one that was created especially for him-and one that couldn't be stopped.

It wasn't going to be easy, of course-but Peter Pan had never let that stop him before. He had survived a wound from the only weapon that was supposed to be able to kill him-he could achieve this.

He'd explained to Felix the particulars needed to enact his curse, but not the specifics. He only needed to focus on the requirements at the moment.

The Truest Believer's blackened heart.

An Honourable Man spilling blood on human soil.

The return of a soul from the land of the dead.

And, perhaps most daunting of all, the death of the greatest of light.

A cold smile curled the demon boy's pink lips. He wasn't about to let something as little as the difficulty of the task stop him from undertaking it. He'd been waiting for this a lone time;he could wait a little longer.

He had one of the requirements and had plenty of time to accumulate the others. After all. His game was only just beginning;the final pieces still had to be put in place.

He knew what he had to do next.

* * *

**The Enchanted Forest**

The Lost Boys took the prisoners to a familiar location;Rumplestiltskin's cell underneath the remains of the Charmings's palace. They were lead inside in complete darkness and the gate clicked shut behind them.

The princess and the Queen and their companions put up a valiant fight, but it came to no avail. The new Lost Boys appeared strong enough to withstand even Regina's magic;none of her spells seemed to have even the slightest effect on them.

"Enjoy your stay,"their commander, Felix, commented snidely as he pulled the key out of the enchanted lock with a caustic smirk.

David launched himself at the shimmering bars, intent on making a scathing retort, but a sneering female voice cut him off just as he opened his mouth.

"Oh, I'll ensure that they do so, Felix."

The two torches the Lost boys at either side of the dungeon carried were instantly snuffed out as a shadow detached itself from the far wall and began to saunter toward the prisoners.

It was a woman, that much was obvious. But, in the sudden darkness, she was practically invisible. The only discernible aspects of her form were a voluminous emerald cloak and a winged obsidian mask that surrounded her eyes and almost completely covered her nose;combined, those two things did not pose a very reassuring image.

The prince backed up slowly as the woman continued to advance, stopping only once she was close enough to wrap a single black-gloved hand around one of the iron rods encasing the cell. David attempted to see her eyes once she was near, but without any light, all he saw was swirling blackness.

The woman observed them all individually in silence for a full minute, eyes gleaming malevolently when she focused on the Evil Queen and the forced lack of fear on her pale face. Then she spoke again.

"This is the woman who managed to thwart Pan's plan to take the heart of the Truest Believer?"the stranger quipped disdainfully. Not bothering to hide her distaste. She clicked her tongue reprovingly, "He could have chosen _much_ better,"

It was Regina's turn to throw herself at the bars in a futile attempt to intimidate their visitor.

"Who are _you?_"the Queen spat, hand shooting out to wrap around the stranger's throat in what was evidently supposed to be a threatening manner.

The other woman let out a chilly laugh, easily trapping Regina's wrist before her hand could reach its destination, as if she were merely swatting a fly.

"You aren't a queen here, or anywhere else, anymore, _Regina_,"the stranger emphasized her name in a way that made it sound like an insult. "You don't command anyone-least of all, me,"

The _former _queen feigned indifference to the unconcealed mirth with which those words were spoken. She pretended that she hadn't been cowed by their cold, hard truth.

"Fine, you won't tell us who you are. Is there a reason why you're here? Or did you just come to chat?"she retorted in as composed a tone as she could muster, faking boredom.

The masked girl gave a second-and, if possible, colder-snicker at the dry quip, amused by the ill-concealed curiosity behind it.

"I came here to see who else I was going to have to punish for Pan's defeat-besides the Saviour,"she replied laconically.

"The Evil Queen, Snow White and Prince Charming,"Her tone gave their titles the sound of derogatory pet names, instead of names to be feared and worshipped. She shook her head, "I've gotta say, I'm disappointed. I was expecting, at the very least, a group of intrepid warriors and sorcerers-but instead, I find a disgraced princess, an over-the-hill former farm boy and a dethroned, powerless scarlet woman playing at magic. Pan could really use a lesson at picking more fitting opponents,"

"What do you know of us and Pan?"Snow challenged guardedly, gripping her husband's hand tightly for support. Who was this woman who seemed to know everything about them, who so obviously abhorred them and everything they were?

She just barely caught sight of a dark smile curling the stranger's smooth skin-toned lips.

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think,"the latter said enigmatically, "That is to say, I know everything about you and the demon boy. In fact, I daresay I know a few things about Peter Pan that you don't,"

"Do you know that he's dead?"the prince finally mustered up the courage to pipe up again, trying-but failing-to keep the slight tremble out of his voice. "We got rid of him just before his curse sent us all out of Storybrooke,"

The masked woman shook her head a second time, smile widening as though she were amused by Charming's statement.

"Apparently, you could use a lesson of your own,"she observed smoothly, much to David's chagrin, "Though this one you really should have learned already;Peter Pan never-"

"Never fails,"Regina finished witheringly, rolling her eyes as if the topic were old hat, "Yes, we've hurt. Many times. And I still haven't seen evidence of that being even remotely true;it seems to me like all he ever does is fail-"

"Oh?"the other woman cut her off again. "And what makes you so sure that this all isn't exactly what he wanted from the beginning?What makes you think that having you all think he's dead isn't just a part of his plan?"

A frown wrinkled Baelfire's forehead as he joined in the conversation and made his way to the front of the group so he could try to get a better look at the woman who was saying such poisonous things. "So, what, are you saying he _let_ my father kill him?"the Dark One's son queried, suddenly aware of the very real possibility of that being the truth.

He felt a cold finger of unease brush against his spine when the stranger turned her pupilless black pools on him, that cruel smile still curving her lips. "I'm saying everyone is where Pan wants them,"she declared in a sinister whisper, "The game isn't over yet. And your son and the Saviour are most definitely still in play-even if they don't know it yet,"

She paused as if a new idea had occurred to her and she turned on her heel, adding over her shoulder, "Maybe it's time to let them know,"

"No!"Neal shouted furiously after her as she started to walk away, "You stay away from them!Hey!"He shook the bars valiantly as if they would break if he only applied enough force.

Needless to say, that didn't work.

His cries fell on emptiness, though, because the woman was already long gone. She'd done what she'd come to do, after all.

There was a new player on the board.

* * *

**Neverland**

He'd never thought he'd ever be dumb enough to set foot on this island, to return to this spot again. After what had happened the first time, he should never have returned here even just once, let alone twice.

Dead Man's Peak. It was the site of two of the most unforgettable moments of his life;it was where his brother had died of dreamshade-and where he had made the decision to save Prince Charming from the same fate.

The pirate couldn't help but notice that the cliffs looked exactly the same as the first time he'd seen them-though the dripping black thorns did appear much more foreboding underneath the night's shadows. He also couldn't help but notice that the fear he'd once had of Neverland, and this spot in particular, was slowly starting to ebb away.

Standing at the edge of the tallest cliff, Hook closed his eyes and contemplated what exactly had possessed him to come back here a third time, even after he'd once sworn never to do so again.

A ripple of wind passed through his short copper hair, ruffling it at the top of his head and pressing its cold fingers against the back of his neck. The breeze brought wit it flashes of memories, of things he'd rather keep buried.

His love for Emma had been real-but, if he really looked at it, it hadn't really been love. It had just been his attempt to regain some semblance of the man he'd once been, the man he'd been before Rumplestiltskin had killed his wife right in front of him. The man he'd been before Pan.

The fact was, Pan had been the one to give him his way to kill the Dark One. He had made Killian into the villain the mortals apparently all thought him to be. And Hook had _loved_ it.

So when he'd brought the prince up here to give him the water to save his life and Pan had offered him a chance to resurrect that old arrangement, he'd been lying when he'd said he didn't miss it. He'd even considered it;having the demon invade his personal space and breathing all those insidious things about their past had only fuelled his desire to taste that power once again. He'd really only succeeded at his goals when he'd listened to Pan-and the demon knew that.

He could still feel that rush of hot breath on his cheek and hear that dark, lilting voice whispering in his ear, reminding him of his failure.

_Remember the last time you didn't listen to me?_

Pan had wanted him to kill the prince, to do exactly the opposite of what he'd gone up there to do. He'd wanted Hook to be the same monster he'd so carefully cultivated, the tool he'd so meticulously honed and sharpened once again.

_I want to see your hook inside his body_.

Now the pirate couldn't, for the life of him, remember what had possessed him not to take Pan's deal. He knew it had had something to do with whatever he'd felt for Emma, but those reasons seemed transparent now;Emma no longer seemed worth all of the trouble. All they'd shared was a kiss and it took him miraculously saving her father for her to give him that much;what would he had to have done to get her to give him the real time of day?

Emma really had been the catalyst for all of this, but she wasn't the real trigger for his sudden reversion to his old ways. No, the true reason was something much, much darker.

He wanted that power again, that feeling of being invincible and he knew Pan was the only one who could give him that. But more than that, he wanted to see the repugnance on his former reluctant comrades's faces turn to terror once he was once again their enemy. And this time, he wasn't going to be subdued by someone as weak and pathetically _human_ as the prince ever again.

"I thought you hated it up here, Captain,"that familiar taunting British drawl broke into his thoughts the way it always seemed to do, with some caustic remark, "But then, that's understandable, given your past with these cliffs,"

Killian turned around unhurriedly, facing the demon with a carefully neutral expression. The boy had his usual playful smirk firmly in place, as always with a hint of unconcealed malice in his swirling, ever-changing eyes as he lethargically closed the distance between them.

"So this deal of ours,"Hook replied, deliberately ignoring Pan's acerbic quip, pretending that the boy's sudden proximity didn't faze him in the slightest, "What exactly is it you want me to do?"

Pan continued to smile, obviously entertained. "Just like I said the last time, Killian, you'll be in my employ, do my dirty work,"the immortal told him matter-of-factly, reiterating almost exactly what he'd said the last time they'd had this conversation.

"What dirty work?"Hook queried flatly, arching a single eyebrow at Pan's unusually cagey manner. Usually, he loved going into all the gory details of exactly what task he wanted Hook to perform.

The demon's pink lips twisted into a truly duplicitous smile, then. He teleported behind the pirate so he could speak into his ear.

"Well, first, you're going to get a chance to see your precious Emma again,"he purred silkily, his tone eerily resembling that of a snake's hiss. Killian had to force himself not to recoil when he felt the familiar sensation of hot breath ghosting over his sensitive skin as Pan continued.

"You're going to tell her that her parents are in danger and that she is the only one who can save them-because, well, that is the truth," "She won't believe me,"Hook cut in blandly, acting as if having Pan at his back wasn't making the hair on his neck stand on end, "She doesn't remember who her parents are, thanks to your curse,"

He could almost feel the low chuckle his words elicited from the demon boy and it sent chills running down his spine.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way to convince her,"Pan breathed confidently, but with a hint of steel, which gave Hook the impression that there was meant to be an ''or else'' at the end of that sentence. And he could just imagine what Pan would do to him if he tried to disobey-or if, God forbid, he failed.

He turned around again and didn't flinch when he found his and Pan's noses almost touching. "And if I do?"he quipped quietly, eyes flicking toward those dark, smoky orbs.

Pan leaned his head forward until they were practically cheek-to-cheek. "You'll be taking her away from her son;emotionally, not physically. Because the only thing worse than losing your parent is having them,"he intoned cryptically, lips hovering mere centimeters away from Hook's ear now.

He tilted his head briefly to the side before finishing, "She'll be leaving little Henry to my intervention-and leaving him to fall under my grip once again,"

Hook arched his neck, catching sight of the naked venom in Pan's gleaming eyes. "And what if she refuses to believe?It took the boy almost dying for her to break the Evil Queen's curse,"

Another cold, humourless laugh huffed out of Peter's lips at the suggestion.

"If it comes to down to something like that, well, use your imagination,"the immortal said before pulling back to look at his face again, "And you'll have something all the residents of Storybrooke didn't,"

His fingers pressed against the vein in Hook's neck and the pirate felt an electric shock go through him the second those slender digits touches his skin. Sparks danced over his flesh as Pan traced the thin blue line;magic, this was the magic Pan had promised him entering his system.

"I always keep my promises, Captain,"he reminded softly, letting his fingers linger a second after the magic was finished transferring-and then, he was simply gone.

The pirate touched a hand to where Pan's fingers had been and found the patch of skin searing hot. He hastily pulled his fingers away, actually fearing being burnt.

A heavy breath fell from his lips as he felt his heart pounding in his ears. Well, he had his first task;it was time to find out if he really could return to the villain lifestyle.

Test number one:manipulating the woman he'd once thought he'd loved into abandoning her son.

It didn't occur to him until after he'd left that Pan hadn't told him where Emma even was;where the curse had dropped her and Henry.

Apparently, he had some searching to do, then.

* * *

Just a warning;this may or may not become a Captain Pan fanfic. Because that just seems to be where it's going that pairing has taken over my life.


	5. Chapter 5

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:Of course I don't own it. If I did, the main character would be Peter Pan. EMMA FREAKING SUCKS.

So I officially love this story, just because it gives me so much opportunity to explore the scenes in season # involving Pan and Henry and such. And i get creative license to do whatever the hell I want with everyone's backstory. And last chapter was the last builldup chap so now the game really begins.

Also PS this might be the last chapter I write for this for awhile cuz I'm going to have to start studying for my exams soon. So enjoy this in case it's the last one until my exams are over.

NEED MORE CAPTAIN PAN FICS. They are my drug right now;I ship those two so hard.

* * *

"_People have always said that there is no magic powerful enough to bring back the dead._

_They were wrong."_

Peter Pan was once again poised at the crossing between the world of the living and the land of the dead. Coincidentally, though, today the opening appeared at the edge of Neverland.

He was here because there was one more piece he had to put in play-the piece that would change the game into one much more...exciting.

In his pied cloak of multicoloured patches, the boy demon edged closer to the precipice of the realms, feeling the calls of the departed echoing hauntingly in his ears. Beyond this peak was a place meant only for the truly dead. The living had no business entering there;and the dead had no business escaping. Those were the rules.

_Any rule can be broken_

From a black sheath attached to his belt, he withdrew a jagged, bone-white dagger, his fingers coiled tightly around the obsidian handle. Raising it, point down, over the swirling, smoking abyss below, he closed his eyes and called upon the darkest aspects of his magic;the power to resurrect the dead.

His velvet-like accent punctuated the air, forming a soft, lilting incantation. And then, the smoke began to rise.

It swam up the rock face in a steadily growing plume, billowing over the edge of the narrow cliff until it was in a writhing cloud in front of the boy.

Pan spun the dagger carefully between his thumb and forefinger before sinking to one knee and plunging it forcefully into the ground.

Something like a roar reverberated throughout the night and then, the smoke slowly started to coalesce into the figure of a man. The man who had tried to kill him.

He was no longer a real man, though. His smooth olive skin had been replaced with the familiar drawn, pockmarked scales;the mask of the monster.

Pulling the dagger out of the rocks, Pan lowered his hood and positioned his hand at the fringes of the remaining smoke, uttering the final word of enchantment.

"_Return._"

The smoke vanished just like that, and the final player rose warily to his feet, slitted eyes scanning the easily recognizable terrain with a mix of confusion and fear. He had been dead-he had been at peace. So how was it that he was back here, of all places, and in his old body once again?

As if in answer to his thoughts, hot breath rushed past his ear, followed by a voice. A soft, lilting, horrifyingly familiar voice that whispered eight seemingly innocent words. But they were eight words that made their speaker's breath waver with their strength-and sent the previously dead man's world spinning violently on its axis.

"_I summon you, Rumplestiltskin._"

"Time to come back and play...Dark One."

* * *

_He woke up to find the blonde boy kneeling in front of him, ill-concealed amusement lighting his tawny features. As Henry sat up, though, the amusement vanished and was replaced by a more neutral expression._

"_What happened?"Henry asked in a half-groan, blinking rapidly in an effort to shake off the disorientation. He felt as though he had been knocked over the head with Felix's club or something, except his head didn't really hurt._

_Pan's indulgent smile returned. "You fell asleep,"he replied matter-of-factly with one of his hands gripping his pipe and the other clasped over the arm resting on his upraised knee;the fire illuminated his face, casting a dark orange glow over his skin._

_The other boy's pale forehead wrinkled in a frown;that didn't sound right. "I did?"he quipped incredulously, squinting against the brightness of the bonfire in Neverland's perpetual twilight. Pan waved a dismissive hand, "Oh, don't worry. It was just a little cat-nap. The night's still young,"_

_There was something in his eyes, though, something that was still telling Henry not to take what he was saying at face value. His eyes were like a dark forest;it would be impossible to find anything there-especially the truth. And Henry couldn't stand lies._

_He made the decision to try and ferret out if Pan was bluffing or not. "Wait, I remember something. My dad,"he hesitated, feeling the slight pain in his chest at mentioning his father, "While I was asleep, I could have sworn I heard him calling out to me,"_

_Something like concern flitted briefly through those smoky eyes before it was replaced once again by deceptively innocent curiosity. "Really?"Pan commented, the smile on his pink lips reminding Henry of a predator that had just sighted his prey. He didn't like that look at all. _

"_It must have been a dream,"he sighed forlornly, voice filling with resignation._

_One of Pan's dark blonde eyebrows crooked slightly. "How can you be sure?"he interjected, his tone making the words sound almost sinister, almost cruel._

"_Because,"Henry exhaled heavily as he struggled to get the reason out, "Because my dad's dead,"_

_He was sure he'd imagined it, but for the briefest instant, Pan's eyes appeared almost solid black. Only for a second, though-an instant later, they were back to their normal shade._

"_I'm sorry, Henry,"the Lost Boys' leader replied, sounding suitably aggrieved, "It makes sense for us to dream about the people we've lost or the things we hope for, like your father being alive or your mother coming to find you. But eventually, you'll find new things to dream about-and when you do, they'll start to come true,"_

_Henry wanted to believe that. He really did. "How do you know?"he asked hopefully after a moment's pause._

_The blonde boy grinned. "Because that's what I did,"he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, showing his teeth, "And now you're here," He leaned in closer before switching tactics, "Neverland used to be a place where new dreams were born. You can bring that magic back, Henry. And _we_ can be your family,"_

_Henry watched him get to his feet, a strange calm coming over him. That sounded good;despite the circumstances, maybe he could learn to like Neverland._

_He copied Pan and stood as the blonde boy moved to the center of the dancing boys, speaking loudly so as to be heard over the thudding percussion beats._

"_I'd like to play a song,"he declared excitedly, "A song for our guest of honour, Henry,"_

_Patting Henry on the shoulder as the younger boy came to stand at his side, he raised his wooden pan pipe to his lips and began to play._

_When the first soft, sepulchral note reached his ears, Henry froze. He hadn't been able to hear it before-but he was hearing it now._

_Filled with a sort of youthful curiosity that he hadn't felt in years, he picked up two of the wooden sticks from the ground and joined in the dance. He didn't know why he could hear the music now, but it was impossible to ignore._

_Seeing Henry dancing, Pan lowered his pipe, an oddly satisfied gleam in his swirling onyx orbs as he called out, "You can hear the music now, can't you, Henry?"_

_Voice breathless with exhilaration and trembling with the exertion of his movement, Henry answered with an enthusiastic, "Yeah!"_

Henry tossed and turned all night while these scenes circled endlessly throughout his mind. They weren't nightmares, exactly, but they just seemed so...real. It was like they weren't simple fantasies;it was almost as if they were memories.

But that was crazy. He'd never seen that boy with the ever-changing eyes before in his life. And, more importantly, he couldn't remember ever being in the sort of jungle that he kept seeing in all of his dreams.

So why did they seem so familiar?And why did he keep seeing them every time he closed his eyes?

The dreams wouldn't stop;if anything, they gained ferocity with every passing moment. And all of them showed him and that boy in some badly lit location that was obviously outdoors.

It couldn't be real, though;in one of the images, they were inside a giant rock shaped like a skull with a large hourglass filled with golden sand in front of him. There was nowhere like that on Earth-and yet, Henry couldn't shake the feeling that he had indeed been there before.

The one thing, though, that really kept him from just writing it all of as just his overactive imagination was the boy, the one who seemed to always be present, the one with those dark, enigmatic eyes;Henry was pretty sure it was the same boy he thought he'd seen standing on the roof the other day.

The boy had been watching him;the question was, why?And, more pressing, who was he and why did he look so familiar?

* * *

**The Enchanted Forest**

It felt as though they had been trapped down there for days-though it was probably really only a day or so. Neal had been alternating between rattling the bars and trying to pick the locks while Regina threw spell after spell to try and break them out. Their efforts all came to no avail, though;the bars refused tp give, no matter what they did.

Their guards, the new Lost Boys, didn't seem all that concerned;they would give them food and water and didn't do a thing to stop their escape attempts, which made the prisoners think the boys knew something they didn't or they were just overly cocky. Neither one really boded well for their captives.

Their drive to escape wasn't simply out of a desire for freedom;they had been shaken by that mysterious woman's visit-although Regina was doing an immaculate job of concealing it. The threat to their family lingered in all of their minds,a long with one very terrifying question:could Peter Pan really still be alive?

As if reading their minds, a horrifyingly familiar British accent suddenly filled their ears as the speaker came around the corner.

"Are you still at it?"

Neal went rigid, dropping the wood sliver he had been using to pick the cell lock with a barely audible clatter and backing away from the bars. Words failed him as he caught sight of the one he'd aptly called ''the nastiest person he'd ever met'' sauntered up to them with an indulgent grin curling his pink lips.

Peter Pan bent down to pick up Charming's sword from the stone floor before poking it through the space in the bars and directing the point at the princess and her husband. "Haven't you realized by now?"he said in a bored tone as if dealing with particularly slow children. His smile returned before he added cockily, "Peter Pan never fails,"

A frown wrinkled Snow's ivory forehead and she advanced warily, looking as though she were seeing a ghost. Which, technically speaking, she was.

"So it _is_ true,"she stated in a horrified tone, unable to take her eyes off of the demon but hoping desperately that they were playing tricks on her, "But how? You were dead;we all saw you die. How is this possible?"

Pointed white teeth gleamed in the dimly lit dungeon as Pan's grin widened.

"Oh, I wasn't dead. Not really, anyways,"he said, still smiling but with a hint of malice, "Rumplestiltskin really should have just left well enough alone. After all, all his dagger did was make me more powerful,"

He paused. "Then again, if he hadn't tried to kill me, he would have been cursed for the rest of his life,"he mused with a quiet snicker, "Talk about a rock and a hard place. And now, the Dark One dagger is mine,"

He spun the sword in his hands and, before their eyes, it vanished and was replaced by an easily recognizable bone-white dagger with an obsidian handle. At seeing that, Neal felt a chill run down his spine.

"If you survived, what happened to my father? He sacrificed himself to get rid of you. What did you do to him?"Baelfire queried with trepidation, dreading what Pan's answer would be.

The demon's smoky emerald eyes fell on him, glinting through his row of gold lashes. "Oh, don't worry. Your father's just fine, Bae," Then his voice turned warning, "But don't be expecting him to pull off another miraculous rescue. You, of all people, should know that things like that never happen twice,"

"Are you done?"Regina cut in irritably, drawing the immortal's attention onto her.

Pan gave a quiet chuckle at her feigned indifference to his words. "How could I forget? The queen doesn't appreciate my speeches,"he commented tauntingly, cocking his head to the side like the curious child he most definitely wasn't.

He made his way over to where she was standing and leaned in so he could meet her furious gaze.

"Well, maybe you'll appreciate this,"he wrapped his free hand around one of the iron bars and declared in a venomous hiss, "Your son is still the key to my victory, _Regina,"_

The former queen launched herself toward him at the provocation. "If you dare even touch him-"she seethed, doing her best to sound intimidating instead of terrified out of her mind.

Pan saw right through it, of course, because he gave her a vicious smirk in return.

"Oh, I'm going to do much worse than that,"he intoned lowly, his youthful features giving every malicious gesture an air of the grotesque, "I'm going to make it so that he'd sooner kill any one of you than call you his family. You stole away his memories of you for me;now all I have to do is pick up the pieces-and you won't be able to do a thing to stop me,"

"If we're so powerless, why bother locking us up? Why not just leave us alone?It's not like we can get to Emma and Henry, anyway,"David challenged, gripping his wife's hand.

A slow, serpentine smile twisted the blonde boy's poisonous lips.

"Nice try, Your Highness, but baiting me into releasing you won't work,"he chastised, eyebrows arching slightly, "You see, this is about much more than your daughter and grandson. You convinced my Lost Boys to betray me and that, that has consequences. After all, cheaters never win;and now, you're paying the price for your mistake,"

"You were trying to take Henry's _heart._ What did you expect us to do, just sit back and do nothing?"Snow retorted furiously, aquamarine orbs blazing.

Pan chuckled. "Of course not,"he waved away the suggestion, knowing just how ridiculous that was, "But you really should have. Now it's too late;in trying to save your grandson, you forfeited any chance to save yourselves-and,more importantly, your daughter,"

"What are you going to do to her?"Snow shouted after him as he started to saunter away. The demon halted in his tracks to toss a final smirk at them over his shoulder.

"Oh I'm not going to do a thing, except let her know that her family is in danger. She'll take care of the rest herself when she comes to save you,"he replied, being deliberately vague.

David shook his head fiercely. "She won't come. She doesn't even remember who we are,"he retorted confidently, actually managing to convince himself that he'd gotten one over their enemy for once.

Peter killed that notion pretty fast, however. "You forget;all magic can be broken-and the memory spell on your daughter is no exception,"he wagged a finger at them reprovingly. His eyes flashed amusement. "I'll give Emma and Henry your regards,"he said, leaving them speechless.

Though he had left, his threat remained. Emma and Henry were in trouble, but they couldn't do a thing about it while they were trapped in this cell.

* * *

**New York City, New York**

The pirate was stationed outside the apartment complex, face half-hidden by a black scarf he had pulled over his face like a cowl.

This was where he had tracked the Saviour and her son, to this busy, rustling suburb that was about as different from Storybrooke as it could get. But then, coming from Boston, Emma was probably used to the city.

He knew exactly which apartment she was in and he knew she didn't leave until Henry was at school. So now came the moment of truth:could he convince her that her parents were in danger when she couldn't even remember who her parents were?

And, maybe even more daunting than that, could he lie to her face about who he was and what his intentions were?

Tugging down his scarf from the bottom half of his face and inhaling deeply, he began walking toward the front door. It was time to find out.

The morning had been an unusually tense one for both of them. Henry definitely bore all of the signs of a restless night and Emma was far too worried about him to be her usual cheerful self;in several ways, this morning was even worse than the previous one.

They ate their breakfast in silence, neither willing to break it and have the conversation they really should. Emma was watching Henry through her bangs, trying not to make it obvious, while the boy was staring resolutely at his bowl of cereal.

The sound of someone banging on the door suddenly punctuated the air, jolting them out of their reveries.

Emma frowned, wondering who on Earth could be at their door this early in the morning. She definitely wasn't expecting anyone.

Exchanging a quick puzzled-and slightly wary-glance with her son from across their kitchen table, she pushed back her chair back and got up to answer it. She turned off the radio and pulled open the door.

Standing behind it was a completely unfamiliar man, who looked almost unbelievably out of place. He was clad in a studded, black leather waistcoat, slacks, held up by a large silver belt buckle and steel-toed boots. Underneath the coat was a thin black button-down with the first few buttons undone to expose a wide expanse of his tawny chest and a scarf wrapped around his neck.

It wasn't his clothes, though, that made him appear out of place;well, not completely. No, the real thing that stood out about him was the fact that, in place of his left hand, there was a curved, shining silver metal hook.

When the door was no longer between them, something unidentifiable flashed through the man's blue eyes. And then he spoke.

"Swan,"he greeted her with what sounded oddly like relief. He made to enter, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Do I know you?"she questioned guardedly.

The man looked wounded at her lack of recognition. "Look, I need your help. Something's happened, something terrible. Your family is in trouble,"he declared in an almost pleading voice.

Emma merely stared at him, uncomprehending. "My family is right here. Who are you?"she shot back uneasily, starting to think that the stranger might be insane or something.

"An old friend,"the man replied cryptically, giving a tiny sigh. "Look, I know you can't remember me, but you have to try."

"I don't have to do anything. I don't even know who the hell you are,,"the blonde retorted defensively and she tried to slam the door in his face, but he lodged his hook into the wood, stopping her. "My name is Killian Jones and you and I, we have a history,"he tried again, tone friendly this time, "And if you don't try to remember who you are, then everyone you care about will be in danger,"

Emma's nostrils flared at the implied threat. "Get out before I call the cops,"she intoned fiercely, trying not to let her fear show.

The stranger shook his head almost disapprovingly. "I'm afraid the law won't be of much help to you with this, love,"he stated disparagingly, "I don't think you have much choice except to listen to what I have to say,"

He'd backed her into a corner-and he knew it. She didn't really want the cops involved, to be quite honest, so, short of attacking the man-Killian, as he called himself-she was out of options.

She was about to herd him out into the hallway so they could talk without Henry hearing, but she just had to ask. "Wait, how do I know you're telling the truth and you're not just some wacko?"

The corners of Killian's mouth twitched slightly. "You'll just have to trust me,"he answered with a mischievous grin that showed just a hint of teeth.

Emma scrutinized him carefully, eyes narrowed. She'd always, for some reason, been able to tell when someone was lying to her-and this man, even though she was pretty sure she didn't know him from Adam, definitely wasn't. So she followed him into the hall, holding the door shut behind her.

"Tell me,"she commanded flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.

* * *

Okay, so that was the end of that chapter. I dunno if I'll be able to get another one up before my exams roll around but we'll see. If I don't, I am truly sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:Of course I don't own anything. I would like to,though.

Maybe I do have time for one more chapter before exams start. And by the way, this line is still fucking making me laugh:

Pan: "I wanted your heart, Henry, but your mother took it away from me,"

OHMIGOD THAT LINE. Hardcore #Panry right there. And I tried my hardest not to let this become a CaptainPan fic but it was a losing battle. But I will try not to let it become too explicit. On that subject, THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE CAPTAIN PAN FICS. I've written two but its not enough. MORE.I NEED MORE.

* * *

**New York City, New York**

Furtively, he wondered if Pan was watching this, watching him with the woman he'd loved and who no longer remembered him to make sure he did what he was told. Like he could do anything else;though he'd had the choice to decline Pan's deal, he hadn't taken it. And now it was too late to back out-though, truth be told, he hadn't really wanted to.

The Saviour stood in front of her apartment door, clearly waiting for him to explain his previous words further. He'd told her that her family was in danger-now he had to elaborate.

"Your family has been taken somewhere only you can help them-and it isn't just them, either,"he told her in complete honesty. He wasn't lying;not really.

Emma raised her eyebrows dubiously, evidently still not really buying it. "Who took them?"she questioned dryly, still with her arms crossed over her chest.

Hook had to suppress a sigh of exasperation. He fully appreciated how difficult it must have been for Henry to convince Emma of her destiny the first time. He really hoped that _he_ wouldn't have to nearly die in order to get her to believe a second time.

Fighting to keep the irritation out of his voice, he answered, "Someone who has a score to settle;someone who won't hesitate to kill your parents if he doesn't get what he wants," Again, which was all true. This was a lot easier than he'd thought it would be.

"Which is what?"the blonde woman pressed impatiently.

The pirate met her eyes without blinking and, with as much feeling as he could muster, said, "You,"

He saw her nostrils flare slightly and her eyes widen as she digested that, considering whether or not to believe him. Refusing to let her come to any other conclusion, he added one last thing; "You can tell if I'm lying, can't you? You know I'm not,"

Emma started at that, shaken by his words. It was true-but how did _he _know about what Henry referred to as her ''superpower''?He couldn't-not unless he really _did_ know and she just couldn't remember, which was more or less what he'd told her to begin with.

The thing was, though, she didn't really _want_ to believe him. Because, if he were telling the truth, then that would mean that the foreboding she'd been getting ever since the previous morning wasn't completely unfounded-and that her family really was in trouble.

That was looking more and more probable the more she thought about it.

She inhaled deeply in an attempt to settle her suddenly racing heart. "You're right,"she relented after a long pause, unfolding her arms, "You aren't lying, so I guess that means my parents really have been kidnapped. But how am I supposed to save them if I can't even remember even remember who they are?"

Though Emma had gone out into the hallway to keep her conversation with the stranger out of his earshot, Henry heard every word, anyways. With his ear pressed to the front door, he heard the stranger tell Emma about her parents-Henry's grandparents-being in grave danger. More than that, though, the stranger knew about her super power;either he really was an old friend of hers-or he was just a very thorough stalker.

When Emma asked, "How can I save my parents when I don't even remember who they are?", Henry decided it was time to put his two cents in. He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway, much to his mother's shock and dismay, and said forcefully, "If my grandparents really are in danger, I can help you remember,"

"Henry, have you been listening this whole time?"his mother scolded him, but she sounded more defensive than angry or offended. Henry shrugged in response. "You didn't tell me not to,"he stated matter-of-factly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his loose-fitting sweatpants.

Emma sighed and Henry turned his gaze onto the unfamiliar man standing next to her. He didn't look like any of the friends of Emma's that he had met before;in his leather and with that hook, he looked almost like a...pirate.

"Who are you?"he questioned curiously, eyebrows rising up to his hairline.

The man met his eyes and Henry had to suppress a shudder;his eyes were blue, like Emma's, but while hers were kind and slightly flinty, this man's eyes were...cold. There was no other way to describe them.

The coldness lasted for about a second, though, and then it melted into feigned warmth. "Killian Jones,"he replied cordially, but with an odd inflection that the boy couldn't interpret. And then, he added with surprising friendliness, "Good to see you again, Henry,"

A frown wrinkled the boy's pale forehead. "You know me?"he quipped in surprise, scrutinizing the man carefully in an attempt to discover something he recognized. It came to no avail, though;if he knew this man, he couldn't remember.

Killian gave a quiet, rueful chuckle. "I do, the same way I know your mother. You've been spelled not to remember, though, so I don't expect you to,"he said without reproach, although there was a faint hint of irritation.

Henry tilted his head to the side, frown deepening. "Spelled?"he repeated dubiously, feeling a sense of mixed confusion and excitement at the uncommon word.

"Henry, go back inside, please,"Emma didn't so much order as plead him, tossing a desperate glance at her companion in the hopes that Henry wouldn't see. Unfortunately, he did and he shook his head.

"No way,"he replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest in blatant defiance. Killian, despite himself, let out a second noise of amusement before speaking again, ignoring the disapproving holes Emma's eyes start boring in the back of his head, "Yes. The Evil Queen spelled both of you so that you wouldn't remember her after she broke her curse,"

"The Evil Queen-"the Saviour started to interject in a tone heavy with scepticism, but Henry steamrolled over her, determined to know more. "What Evil Queen? And why would she need to make us forget her?" He was a kid;he had no trouble believing that magic existed and that an Evil Queen had cast a spell on him.

A slow smile spread over the copper-haired man's lips at his interest. "I'll make you a deal, young sir;convince your mother to hear me out and I'll tell you-both of you- everything you want to know,"he offered evasively, hooking a thumb in his belt.

"Henry, you're going to be late for school,"Emma cut in before he could answer, pushing him back toward the door. Henry tossed her a look of stunned disbelief.

"How can you even think of school when our family is in danger?!Don't you want to know how to save them?"he asked her, gaping. Emma sighed, "We don't know that they're really in danger. Just because this man doesn't think he's lying doesn't mean he isn't,"

She looked back at Killian apologetically. "Look, I appreciate your warning, but I still have no idea who you are. So please just go;I can't be chasing after some fairy tale right now. I have a life,"

Before the one-handed man could protest, she steered Henry back into the apartment and closed the door behind them. Inhaling deeply to compose herself, she turned to Henry and pointed at his doorway, "Go get your stuff before you miss the bus,"

Henry huffed angrily, but complied. But he wasn't finished;he was going to find out who this Killian Jones was and how he knew them-with or without his mother's permission.

* * *

**The Remains of Storybrooke**

Alone, in the middle of the ruins of the small Maine town that never should have been, he thought back to how things had spiralled this far. He had been willing to die to save the people he loved, to protect his son and his grandson from the demon who had torn apart his past. He really should have known better than to think it would ever be that simple.

Everything he had done to change, to be the man that his family had wanted him to be was coming undone. Ripped apart by a single touch of Pan's sorcery;such was the origination of his hatred.

The immortal boy hadn't always been his enemy;for a time, they had even been like brothers. That had all changed when Rumplestiltskin saw his true colours, though;when he'd seen the lengths Pan had gone to to bring him to his cursed island and turn him against everything he'd ever known and believed in.

Peter Pan was, quite literally, the most diabolical creature he had ever met. Regina had been missing something when she declared him and herself as the two most powerful practitioners of magic;Pan was far, far above them both.

And, unlike them both, there had been no great personal tragedy to fuel his desire for power. No, he had simply decided he wanted to keep his youth and didn't care what he had to do or who he had to hurt in order to achieve his goals. Peter Pan always got what he wanted-even if it wasn't instantaneous, it was at least eventual.

Pan had wanted him to become this again, to be back in his control, in his thrall. And now, here he was, in the remains of what had become his home, with all of his powers, none of the drawbacks, but also none of the authority. Pan had brought him back to life, and therefore, he effectively owned the Dark One and all of his abilities.

That should have terrified or repulsed him, but his feelings had been bound. Every minute he spent in the land of the living, he could feel emotions fighting to break free of their restraints, urging him to rebel against his new master, but Pan had locked them up tight. Not even a spell could free them now.

In retrospect, that was probably a good thing, though. With his emotions on lockdown, he wouldn't have the capacity to feel remorse over whatever Pan commanded him to do while he was unable to refuse. And he was sure whatever that was, it wouldn't be pleasant for him;Pan was vengeful that way.

What did trouble him, though, was how Pan was here in the first place. He'd killed the demon, watched him split apart before his eyes and yet, the boy had come to him, as whole and malicious as ever, with abilities the likes of which Rumplestiltskin had never witnessed before. The likes of which he had never even thought possible.

There was another, greater force at work here. Someone else was pulling the strings, or helping Pan pull them, who was even darker and more twisted than either of them had ever been. There was no one he could think of, though, who would willingly partner with Peter Pan;the immortal wasn't someone who accumulate allies through honest means. And someone with the power to resurrect the dead wouldn't be as easily duped as the vulnerable and sometimes prepubescent boys that Pan had trained to become his Lost Boys.

The question was who could it be?Who had that kind of power and was that ruthless that they would ally themselves with the likes of Peter Pan?

* * *

**New York City, New York**

"Was that man really telling the truth?About your parents being in danger, I mean?"Henry questioned his mother when he got home from school as he unpacked his bag in their kitchen. The scene in the hallway that morning had been on his mind the entire day, especially what that strange man had said about them being cursed by the Evil Queen.

Emma inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. She'd been thinking about it for hours¸too, trying desperately to recall anything about the man who'd been at the door. "I don't know, kid,"she admitted with a helpless shrug, "He seemed to believe what he was saying, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he was telling the truth. I mean, curses and Evil Queens?Really?"

Henry turned around to look at her, arms crossed over his lanky chest. "Well, just because it doesn't sound like the truth doesn't mean it isn't,"he pointed out flatly, "I mean, come on, mom, you've always told me how horrible it was growing up without your parents. What if this is your chance to finally meet them?You have to at least give it a chance,"

"Whoa, Henry, they gave me up. I don't think I owe them anything,"Emma defended stubbornly, shaking her head. After twenty-nine years of searching without success, she'd pretty much decided that her parents didn't want to be found and given up. She didn't want to have that belief challenged after so long;she didn't want to hope that that wasn't true and then have that hope crushed all over again.

Her son, of course, had never really believed that. He'd always said there had to be some other explanation;he would latch onto something as ridiculous as this. "Maybe this has something to do with that. Maybe part of the curse forced them to give you up to save your life or something,"Henry suggested optimistically with his typical childish hopefulness.

Emma looked at him, an indulgent smile on her flesh-coloured lips. "I know how badly you want to believe that, Henry, but you're still just a kid. And I don't want to burst your bubble, but the world is a much harsher and more difficult place than I've lead you to believe,"she told him reluctantly with a sigh, "I didn't want you to have to go through what I did. I needed you so I kept you. My parents _didn't_ want me,"

The brown-haired boy didn't, couldn't believe that it was that simple. He had his youthful imagination on his side;he could believe that a curse cast by the Evil Queen was responsible for his mother's less-than-happy childhood. "You can't seriously think that that man would come to find you if what he said wasn't true?"

"I don't even know him. For all we know, he could just be some lunatic who escaped from the local asylum,"Emma protested matter-of-factly, gesticulating wildly for emphasis. Henry just shook his head at her, "He knows you, and he knew me. I don't know how, but I recognized him even though I don't think we've ever met before,"

That was a new wrinkle, but as Henry was saying the words, he realized that they were true. He did have vague memories of that same bearded face and Irish accent speaking to him on some vast, elaborate ship in another time and another place. He blinked rapidly, attempting to dislodge the images from his mind and re-focused on his mom, who was staring at him in astonishment.

"You recognize him?Like you know him?"she queried shrewdly, brow furrowing in an obvious frown.

Henry lifted one of his small shoulders in a non-committal gesture. "I don't exactly know how to put it,"he said hesitantly, "But he does seem really familiar. I can't really explain why,"

The frown wrinkling Emma's white forehead deepened at that. Now that Henry had mentioned it, Killian really did seem familiar;but that was impossible. Where would she have met a guy who dressed like that, even in New York, a guy with a hook for a hand?He'd said he was an old friend, but how come she didn't remember him, even a little bit?

"Yeah, it's weird, but I was getting the same feeling while he was here,"she confessed offhandedly, trying to make it sound like it was a matter of no real importance. It was, though;it was a really big deal. Because, if what the stranger had told her was true, then her parents were only in danger because someone wanted to get to her. And if she went to rescue them, she'd be playing right into their hands-whoever they were.

"I think you should trust him and try to find your parents,"Henry stated simply, offering his opinion. Then he struck the final nail in Emma's coffin; "For your sake-and mine. I'd really like to know my grandparents,"

Emma let out an exasperated huff, galled by those words. He just had to play that card, didn't he?Henry knew full well that she would do anything to make him happy, even believe in something like this.

"Fine,"Emma surrendered in resignation, knowing she had no other choice now. Once Henry brought his own welfare and happiness into the equation, the ability to say ''no'' just escaped her.

It looked like she was taking the bait, after all. Whoever was after her was about to get exactly what they wanted.

_The game is about to change_

* * *

**Neverland**

_At the bottom of the treacherous cliff known as Dead Man's Peak, he could see the prince waving his arms, waiting to be let up. He started to toss the rope over the edge, but a chillingly familiar voice stopped him in the process._

"_Don't pull him up yet. I wanna talk, Alone."_

_Hook let out a deep breath. He really should have expected this. Turning away from the precipice, he tossed the rope away in exaggerated exasperation. "What do you want?"the pirate asked the demon boy, finding him half-concealed by the shadows of the trees and the surrounding darkness._

_Pan was just barely visible against the midnight backdrop, but his presence was impossible to ignore. The smirk was evident in his voice when he replied, "To offer you a deal. Come back and work for me, like the old days,"_

"_I don't miss the old days,"Hook stated dully, giving a quiet scoff to cover his hesitation. Pan appeared to sense it, anyways, though and apparently had no qualms about preying on it._

"_What if I were to offer you something that's very hard to come by?"Hook did his best not to jump when the demon teleported and rematerialized mere inches away from him before speaking again, "Passage off the island,"_

_The dark-haired man lowered his eyes and feigned a smile. "Still not interested,"he declined, shaking his head. And he shouldn't have been, either;the old days were a bit of a blur, but the things he'd done while in Pan's employ, well, they definitely weren't things that were easily forgotten._

_Now that his smirk was visible, it gave the boy an air of the grotesque on his deceptively youthful features as he continued to press. "What if I were to sweeten the deal?You can take someone with you,"he crossed up onto the slope of the rock before dangling the one things he knew Hook couldn't say no to, "Emma,"_

_Hook stared at him, a little puzzled and a lot warier than he'd been when this conversation had first started. Emma was the entire reason he was here, after all;Pan knew that. And he no doubt knew how Hook felt about her, which was why he was using her as bait._

_He had to admit that it was a tempting offer. He'd always hated it here;Neverland had nothing but bad memories for him. And leaving here with Emma would have been great, except there was one very prominent factor standing in the way of that: "Emma would never leave her son,"_

_The blonde boy's poisonous pink lips curved maliciously. "She did once before,"he pointed out with a vindictive gleam in those unearthly eyes of his, "And you can be there to pick up the pieces,"_

_He paused briefly to allow the pirate to ponder that while he crossed back down in front of him, striding confidently past the evergreen trees. "We've known each other a very long time, Killian. We've done business before,"Hook looked up to see his smirk turn almost suggestive, "And I think this is the perfect time to restart that relationship,"_

_The pirate felt his heart pounding in his ears. He should not have even been considering this-and he definitely couldn't believe that he was. "And what if I'm not interested?"he retorted a little too quickly to be entirely convincing._

_Pan gave a quiet, mirthless chuckle. "Of course you are, because that's what I've always liked about you,"he closed the distance between them again, still smirking. "You're good at surviving,"he finished._

_Again, Hook had to fake resignation, rolling his eyes expressively before asking, "What do you want me to do?"_

"_You'll be in my employ. Do my dirty work,"Peter answered cryptically, smile morphing into a much more sinister expression._

_Hook gave him a droll stare. "What dirty work?"he questioned flatly, meeting Pan's impassive gaze without blinking, trying to figure it out. But Pan was giving nothing away, "When the time comes, I'll let you know,"_

_He switched tacks abruptly, "But first, I need a signal that you've taken my deal," "So my word right now wouldn't be enough?"Hook quipped lowly, offended by the lack of faith. He and Pan might not have been the best of friends, but that didn't mean he should be questioning his honour;when he made a deal, he stuck to it, no matter how unsavoury the terms were._

_The boy's expression darkened even further, if that were possible. "You know me,"he reappeared behind Hook, making the pirate have to suppress a shudder as he continued in a low, husky tone, "I like action. I'll know you've taken my deal when I see the prince's dead body up on that peak,"_

_And there it was;Peter wanted him to kill Emma's father. That was the reason behind this entire façade. He wanted Hook to be his tool again, for him to go back to what he had been before he'd escaped Neverland the last time._

_Hook would have been lying if he said that the thought hadn't crossed his mind before. Killing the prince would definitely put an end to all of his insults and disdainful looks, but he was still Emma's father. And that wasn't at all what he'd signed up for._

"_You'll see that, anyways. He's on his last legs thanks to Dreamshade,"he tried to divert, but Pan wasn't having it. "I want to see you kill him _before_ the poison,"the demon declared fiercely with such intensity that Hook actually felt himself tremble, "I want to see your hook _inside_ his body,"_

_He didn't miss the thinly-veiled innuendo there, nor did he expect the sudden rush of heat that went through his body at those words. What was it about Peter that made so easy for him to know exactly the words to say that would get to him the most?_

_Peter had moved behind him again, so he had to turn in order to meet that burning, smoky gaze;he did so carefully and with deliberate slowness. "And what if I _don't_ take your offer?"he challenged softly, feeling a slight sense of foreboding at the simple question of going against Pan's wishes._

_The demon looked supremely unruffled, moving his lips next to the pirate's ear and making him freeze as he responded, "Remember the last time you didn't listen to me?"he whispered heavily, breathing audible through his words._

_He pulled back gradually and then his hand shot underneath the side of Hook's coat, plucking the flask from his hip and holding it up between them. "Have a drink. You know it always helps you think,"he said with such disgust and utter _want_ in his eyes that Hook had to look away after snatching the flask out of his hand._

_He was about to say something else, but the telltale sounds of Charming's laboured pants as he successfully, _foolishly_ climbed his way to the top of the cliff stopped him-and Pan melted out of sight._

_Peter never failed to unnerve him, no matter how many time the demon was there. That had been no exception._

**The Jolly Roger**(is now an official location)

Though he hadn't really needed it, Hook had sailed his ship to New York and docked it in one of the many harbours surrounding the city under a cloaking spell to keep it from prying eyes. A cloaking spell that he'd cast himself;another one of the benefits of the magic that Pan had given him.

He stepped onto the deck of his ship and found the King of Neverland waiting for him, standing on the rigging as if summoned by his thoughts. The blonde boy wasn't holding onto anything and, if Hook didn't know any better, he'd swear the boy was _trying _to fall, the way he was leaning out over the water.

The pirate didn't ask Peter what he was doing there;instead, he simply leaned back against the ship's helm, withdrawing his flask from underneath his coat and flipping it open. The boy was going to be the one to dictate whatever the forthcoming conversation was going to be, so Hook was going to let him be the one to start it, too.

Just as he was in the process of taking a drink of the amber liquid he kept on him at all times, the boy leapt easily down from the makeshift tightrope and landed in front of him, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

Hook simply watched as he came closer, taking a drink of his rum in order to moisten his suddenly dry throat. When Peter was about five inches away from him, that was when he finally spoke.

"Reunion didn't go as well as you thought it would?"he questioned in that sibilant accent, lifting one of his dark blonde eyebrows. There was a knowing gleam in his smoky eyes, though, that said he already knew exactly how the ''reunion'' had gone and was just toying with Hook-as per usual.

He still allowed himself to rise to the bait because he knew it was what Pan wanted-and because he was curious to hear what the boy had to say about it.

"There was no tearful ''hello'' or rejoicing at seeing me again, if that's what you mean,"the pirate replied neutrally, licking his lips, "But then, she didn't slam the door in my face, either, so I digress,"

Pan smiled at the response, showing his pointed teeth. "You didn't profess your undying love and devotion the moment you laid eyes on her?"he sneered coolly, eyes rolling with what Hook could only describe as disgust.

He wondered briefly about that, but didn't forestall his flat retort. "I didn't think it wise to do that on what, to her, was our first meeting."

Both of Pan's eyebrows rose this time as he feigned shock and let out a truly chilling laugh. "You didn't think it _wise_?"he repeated dubiously, advancing slowly toward the captain of the ship in what was almost a predator's lope. Then, when they were practically nose-to-nose , he added, "Or because you don't feel that way anymore?"

Hook had to force himself not to flinch when those swirling onyx orbs locked onto his light blue ones, scrutinizing and penetrating him to his very soul. At that, he found himself wondering wildly if Pan could read minds.

"You know, I did wonder why exactly it was you decided to take my deal this time,"he mused in barely above a whisper, eyes boring holes into the man's face without blinking, "You were never one to bend so easily to threats-unless, of course, you didn't do it to save your precious Emma,"

He paused for a second, as if pondering while his dark pools continued to study Killian in a way that gave the pirate the distinct sensation of being X-rayed.

Hook froze when he felt Pan's hot breath on his face and felt his heart rate speed up when the demon posed another question, almost speaking into his lips, "But then, I wonder, If you didn't do it for her, why _did _you?"

The one-handed man swallowed tensely, feeling extremely warm all of a sudden. "What does it matter?This is what you wanted-"he started to evade Pan's suggestion, but a finger against his lips and the boy's soft, dangerous chuckle cut him off, "You can't lie to me, Killian. Not anymore,"

The use of his first name coming out of Pan's mouth would forever be the unholiest sound that Hook had ever heard. And because the demon only used it when he wanted to unnerve him just made it even more so.

He let out a sigh of surrender and relented. "I wanted to return to the other side,"he admitted truthfully, not moving away from the boy who was still firmly in his personal space, "I wanted to truly be the villain for once. And I wanted to make the Saviour's family regret all of the grief they gave me while I was trying to help them save the boy,"

Another huff of laughter slipped from the blonde's silken lips, this one more vindictive than the last-if that were even possible.

"You wanted to know what it meant not to feel, to be truly ruthless. You wanted to make them pay,"he surmised knowingly, lips stopping just short of brushing the pirate's ear, "I was right all along. You _do _miss the old days,"

"I do,"Killian admitted, forcing himself to meet those piercing eyes and not to blink. It was the truth;he missed not caring about anything but his next task. He missed the simplicity of having no weaknesses and surviving only for himself and nothing else. And then, there were the things Pan asked(ordered) him to do;those were what he missed most of all.

He unconsciously leaned forward when Pan's knuckles caressed his cheek with an uncharacteristic gentleness. "Well, I'll do my best to make sure you enjoy working for me now just as much as you did then,"he promised, carding his fingers through the pirate's hair almost affectionately before whispering his next orders, "And I'll start by letting you kill the boys who betrayed me to the Saviour and her family. You'll do that for me, won't you, Captain?"

It wasn't a request, but the pirate felt the need to give his acceptance all the same. "Yes,"he consented without hesitation, feeling no remorse for the lives he had just agreed to end.

A familiar predatory smile curved Pan's full lips at his unhesitant compliance. "Excellent,"he said with a sort of twisted satisfaction.

* * *

**Neverland**

All of the falsehoods and the lies he'd had to tell in order to protect himself and his boys, were necessary. But also, they were inevitable;he didn't trust anyone, not really. And it turned out that he was justified in doing so, because in the end, Felix had been the only one to remain loyal;everyone else had given him up the moment the prospect of another home was dangled in front of them.

Peter didn't really blame them, though;he was selfish, too. He made the choice a long time ago that he would look out for himself and no one else-and anyone foolish enough to count him as a friend was only setting themselves up for disappointment. That was proven time and time again and the only one who didn't seem to have learned was his second and most faithful;he didn't need to teach Felix, though. Felix was smart;he wouldn't still be here if he thought Peter would betray him again.

There was one secret that no one, not even Felix, had ever known, though. What Wendy had told the Saviour about the Heart of the Truest Believer had been what she thought was the truth-but really, it hadn't been the truth at all.

The real reason he'd needed Henry's heart wasn't to save his life;it was actually a lot simpler and less dramatic than that.

He strode through the jungle to where his new friends had gathered, brushing aside the leave of the trees that surrounded him. "I didn't know we were the type of group that needed to have war council meetings,"he commented dryly as he came to stand between the taller male and his female companion.

The woman gave a soft, humourless chuckle. "Do you disapprove?"she asked carefully, as if daring him to discourage this.

Peter shook his head, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Is it really necessary?"he countered smoothly, not missing a beat, crossing his arms over his toned chest.

"Your right-hand here was just telling me the real reason why you wanted the heart of the Truest Believer so badly for all those years,"the cloaked woman told him matter-of-factly with a slight shrug, "It was an interesting story, to say the least. I'm curious to know what you have to say about it,"

Peter stared at her, eyes going uncharacteristically hard. He wasn't stupid enough to challenge her in this, but he didn't like it when people decided to pry into his private business. Especially not those who claimed to be his friends.

He had no other choice but to answer, though. So he forbore and replied without hesitation, "The scope of my power had become rather dull, so I decided I wanted more. And since my magic and this entire island runs on belief, the Truest Believer was the only way I could get more. The fact that he was the son of the Saviour and Rumplestiltskin's son was just a happy coincidence,"

"And when they thwarted you, you decided to pay them back by taking over their hometown and making them all forget who they were, just like the Evil Queen,"the female finished for him, raising her eyebrows. Peter didn't appear to appreciate the comparison, though, because he corrected her, "The queen enacted her curse for revenge. I didn't want anything as petty as that;I just wanted them all to see what they were dealing with. Because I always get what I want, even if it sometimes takes awhile to become clear what that it is,"

"A year is quite a long time,"his companion declared flatly, not bothering with any deference. She and Pan were on equal terms;partners, not master and servant. However, upon seeing that she was evoking his ire, she abruptly changed topics, "How are you getting along with your curse?"

A serpentine smile spread over Peter's pink lips, making her marvel for a moment at how rapidly his emotions could shift. "Everything is falling into place,"the immortal informed her gloatingly, showing his pointed white teeth, "The Saviour's family and the queen are out of my way and with the Dark One and my favourite pirate back under my control, there is nothing anyone can do to stop it this time. Henry will fall back under my control soon enough, and then, well, then they'll really have something to fear,"

"Something else to fear,"Felix added sneeringly with a sinister grin of his own, barely visible beneath the rim of his large, dark hood. The woman smiled in acknowledgement of the hidden compliment. "Oh, when this curse hits, I will be the least of their worries. Even being the Black Fairy doesn't compare to being an enemy of Peter Pan's;after all, Peter Pan never fails,"

The aforementioned demon chuckled at the praise and the use of his favourite phrase. The Black Fairy was a powerful ally;she was the reason he had the full extent of his powers back and the curse at all. He owed her and Peter Pan remained beholden to no one.;all she wanted was to see him win. Far be it for him to disappoint her.

"My curse is only the beginning,"he stated with relish, an almost manic gleam in his smoky eyes, "When I'm done with the Saviour and her family, they'll wish they had never met me. I'm not someone who gives up easily and they were kidding themselves if they thought something as trivial as death would be enough to stop me,"

He fell silent for a minute, upper lip curling as he considered his next words. His eyes flashed almost red in the darkness when he reached his decision.

"I think it's time we let the Saviour know who she is really up against,"he announced lowly, voice almost a hiss. His lips twisted further, making his expression even darker. "Time for her to find out the consequences for backing out before the game is truly over."

That was like the longest chapter so far. Hello temporary hiatus while I study and do my history exam.


	7. Chapter 7

Title:Return

Authoress:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:I don't own anything. I wish I did.

This chapter is going to be soo good. And OUAT IS STILL NOT OFF HIATUS. I swear to god if Peter Pan doesn't come back, I'm not watching anymore. It will NOT be worth it. And Tumblr and fanfiction have taken my mind and permanently trapped it in the gutter. I swear.

CAPTAINPAN IS CANON. I hear no arguments on this. It is canon.

* * *

**Neverland**

_The sand was streaked with crimson and covered in the bodies of other pirates. Not members of his crew, but still men he knew-and he'd slaughtered them all. Because grown-ups weren't allowed on Neverland, Because _he_ had commanded it._

_Killian's eyes roamed emotionlessly over the carnage, appearing supremely unconcerned by the blood staining his clothes and covering his bare hand. This wasn't the first time he had killed, and nor would it be the last-but somehow, this time was different than all the other times._

_These had been familiar faces-he'd even go so far as to call them friends. He'd lured these men off of their ship with promises of shelter and food-and then, the second they had set foot on the beach, he'd turned on them._

_He'd virtually torn them all apart, ripped out their hearts, slashing and gutting like a demon from Hell. They must have thought he had gone mad, or been possessed-and maybe that was the truth of it. He _had_ been possessed-just not in the traditional sense._

_The shadows of the cursed island seemed to close in around him as he surveyed his handiwork. He should have felt appalled or disgusted by what he had done;he should have felt _something_, anything the strange, sick thrill that was currently filling his body._

"_You never fail to impress me, Killian,"that sibilant, accented voice suddenly spoke from next to his ear. There was a rush of air and then, the very boy he'd been thinking of was standing before him, a satisfied smile twisting his poisonous lips._

_The pirate didn't react;he'd been expecting this, after all. He'd felt the demon's eyes watching him throughout the entire ordeal, heard that lilting, husky voice whispering encouragement in his ear. This was all _his_ doing;of course he'd want to see the end result._

_Pan strode casually amongst the sea of corpses, grin growing more and more vindictive with each one he observed. "I told you to get rid of them, but you took my words to a whole new level, didn't you?"he praised once he was back in the captain's sight line and in his personal space._

_Killian met those smouldering, gleaming eyes without blinking; attempting in vain to conceal just how much Pan's proximity affected him. He detracted all thoughts of what was usually happening when the two of them were this close and forced himself to answer in as clinical a tone as he could manage. "I thought you'd appreciate the initiative, "he commented without humour, though he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching slightly._

_A dark chuckle slipped from the immortal's lips, sending an inexplicable shudder down the pirate's spine. "Oh, I do,"he confirmed, eyebrows lifting with the corners of his mouth as he laughed, "But we both know there was more to it than that, Captain,"_

_Pan stepped even closer, then, foot coming to rest between the man's so their chests were almost touching. "I think you're starting to enjoy our little arrangement a lot more than you care to admit,"he suggested knowingly, boring holes into the other's aquamarine orbs._

_Killian knew that look in the demon's eyes all too well;he was caught. He couldn't lie to the boy, not here where his power had absolute control over everything, even the tiniest ones. And those eyes;sometimes, it was almost as if they were staring straight into his soul and plucking out all of the deepest, darkest aspects of it._

_He swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat. He'd figured out a long time ago that this _boy_ was anything but human-but what was it about him that he could so effortlessly slice through every single one of Killian's defenses?What was it about Peter Pan that sent every single sense in his body on edge whenever he was in the vicinity?_

"_And if I am?"he retorted in barely above a whisper, the words coming out a lot huskier than he had meant them to._

_He saw the gleam in Pan's eyes brighten as the boy let out a second, quiet snicker, and he had to suppress a shiver when he felt Pan's lips brush against his ear. "You already know the answer to that question, Captain,"he breathed out before pulling back with deliberate slowness, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Killian through his long, burnished gold lashes._

"_You were made for this(for me);this is the person you were always meant to be."_

_Hook pretended he didn't feel the press of those sinful lips against his own just before the demon vanished, leaving behind his cruel mockery of a shadow. And he pretended his heart wasn't racing when the contact ended._

* * *

**Caldred**(made up realm)

Killian stood inside the home of the final traitor, in front of the boy with the shorn, greyish hair who looked uncharacteristically clean, and terrified. Although, that was understandable:Killian was, after all, here to kill him-not to mention the fact that he had the blood of the boy's former comrades still saturating his clothes and flaking off of his hook and hand.

The strange thing, though, was that the pirate didn't feel an ounce of remorse for the things he was doing. He didn't feel bad for lying to Emma about who he was-and he definitely didn't feel a single regret for killing all of those Lost Boys who had given Pan up to the Saviour and her family. He was truly turning into a villain now-and this was what villains did.

They killed.

The boy-Darien, Killian vaguely recalled his name being-was cowering from him, doing his best to make himself as small as possible. "You,"he said, trying-and failing-to keep the fear out of his youthful voice, "What are you doing here?What do you want?"

An unbecoming sneer slowly curled the pirate's upper lip as he tapped his hook rhythmically against the surface of the polished granite countertop. "Think hard, mate. I'm sure you can guess,"he replied in a deceptively amiable tone, stance casual and not at all threatening. He had no personal grudge against the boy-but he had taken Pan's deal and now he had no choice but to comply with his orders.

The boy didn't take long to put the pieces together, proving he was a lot smarter than he looked. "He sent you,"Darien realized, voice strained with mixed shock and terror, "He survived and somehow convinced you to work for him again," He looked up through his lashes to meet Killian's frigid blue orbs, attempting not to flinch, "Didn't he?"

Hook tilted his head forward in an affirmative, rubbing his nose with the curve of his hook. Tears filled the boy's eyes at the confirmation as the pirate slowly rounded the counter and came to stand at his feet. "Please, I don't want to die,"he all but whimpered, clasping his hands together to keep them from trembling.

"You should have thought of that before you and the others decided to betray _him,_"Killian retorted without sympathy, squatting down so he could position his hook underneath the boy's chin, "You, of all people, should have known, boy;breaking his rules always comes with a price. And you and your friends have now paid with your lives,"

His tone was uncharacteristically cold and, when he slashed the boy's throat, it was in one single, unforgiving motion. Blood instantly fountained out of the wound and spattered across the linoleum floor, forming little crimson rivulets next to the child's head once it hit the tiles.

Killian straightened up, sneer turning almost manic as he stared down at his victim's body. He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed killing so much;he didn't think he ever had-not since the last time he'd worked for Pan.

He closed his eyes, exhaling soundlessly. He was changing, that much was obvious;he was reverting back to the person he had been before he'd escaped Neverland the first time. Back into the monster Pan had molded him into-and, as horrible as it was, he'd actually missed being that person. Being under Pan's control wasn't like being under anyone else's.

He'd never had this much fun being under anyone else's control, after all.

* * *

**New York City, New York**

Henry hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood further over his head in order to hide his face. He shouldn't have been doing this;skipping school and venturing out into the most dangerous part of the city was definitely not a smart idea, and it wasn't something he would do under normal circumstances. But these were about as far from normal circumstances as you could get.

What that strangely familiar man had said had permanently stuck in his mind. He couldn't let it go like his mom obviously wanted him to. He had to know if the man had been telling the truth-he had to know more.

He didn't know how he knew where to look for Killian;his feet were moving of their own accord, taking him through the rugged streets and all sorts of back alleys and shortcuts that he should have been staying away from. It was as if some external force, something out of his control, was leading him and he had no choice except to follow.

Everything passed by him in a blur, like he wasn't really there-almost as if he was looking through someone else's eyes. He saw people staring at him, but he didn't look like anything out of the ordinary, so for the most part, they ignored him and he ignored them right back. There were more important things for him to worry about right then.

After what seemed like mere minutes-but was probably a lot longer-he found himself standing at the entrance to a marina. He'd been here before;he recognized the peeling, unreadable sign and all of the ships docked there.

Well, _almost _all of them.

A frown wrinkled his alabaster forehead. There was a ship there that he had never seen there before-but he had seen it somewhere else;in his dreams.

He felt his mind freeze as he caught sight of the name that was inscribed across the hull:

The _Jolly Roger._

"No way,"the boy whispered with mixed shock and anxiety as the implications of that ship's existence hit him like a speeding bus;that man, the one who'd come to their door that morning, was… "Captain Hook."

There was a part of him that no longer wanted to go through with this-that wanted to turn around and never look back. Captain Hook wasn't real-and even if he was, he was supposed to be a villain. Yet, he'd claimed to be an old friend, hadn't he? There was a part of him that didn't want to keep going-but there was a bigger part that needed to know what was going on. And that was the part that won out.

Henry took a deep breath to steady his nerves before striding through the entrance to the marina and toward the fabled ship, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to keep them from trembling. Whatever was going to happen here, at the very least, he would get the answers he was looking for.

As if sensing his presence, a wooden ramp appeared alongside the ship, clearly beckoning him aboard. Henry ascended it warily, keeping his eyes peeled for any nasty surprises;he may have been just a kid, but that didn't mean he was stupid.

Nothing jumped out at him, though, and he reached the top of the ramp without any incidents. When he climbed over onto the flat surface of the ship, he found its presumed captain waiting for him, sitting in front of the helm with long legs crossed at the ankles and fingers curled around his stubbled chin.

"And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, young sir?"Killian greeted him shrewdly, a single copper eyebrow lifting at the boy's appearance. Henry gulped;now that he was here, he wasn't really sure what he should say. This man could be potentially dangerous-and he'd walked right onto his home turf.

Doing his best not to let his sudden fear show, he inhaled deeply and responded with a question of his own. "You're him, aren't you? Captain Hook? Like, for real?"

Killian spread his arms and lowered his head in an oddly cordial bow. "That I am,"he confirmed with no hint of deception, "I'd say pleased to meet you, but that would be rather redundant at this point,"

Henry's frown deepened at his choice of words. "So we have met before? I mean, before this morning?"he asked carefully, grasping one of the ship's pillars to keep himself steady.

The pirate nodded. "As a matter of fact, we have. Quite a while ago, too-and I know that your mother wouldn't have let you come see me on your own, so my guess is she doesn't know you're here,"he paused, then as if it had just occurred to him, he asked, "How did you find me?"

Henry shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny. If he really did know this man, he shouldn't be so afraid. Should he?

"I honestly don't know,"he confessed truthfully, "It was like something just…led me here. Like it wanted me to find you," "But how did you see my ship?It's cloaked by a spell that not even the most powerful sorcerer could penetrate,"he pressed, genuinely puzzled.

The boy just shrugged;he had no idea what the pirate wanted to hear. "It looked completely visible to me,"he said at length, unsure what he was getting himself into by telling this.

Something unidentifiable streaked through the one-handed man's light blue eyes-something that made the hair at the back of Henry's neck stand on end. "Interesting,"the man commented in an undertone, appearing to be speaking more to himself than to his companion.

Then, as if only just remembering that Henry was there, he spoke again at a more normal volume, "Well, it appears that there are still some things about you that even I don't know. But tell me, what are you doing here, Henry? What did you come find me for?"

Henry hesitated for about a fraction of a second before just going with his gut and saying what was on his mind, "If you and my family were so close, why doesn't my mom remember you?Why do _I _feel like I know you, even though my mom says we've never met before? And what did you mean when you said we were cursed by the same person who is holding my grandparents captive?"

Killian was silent for a few minutes, as if he were debating how to answer. Then, he drew himself up to his full height and closed the distance between the two of them, doing his best to look non-threatening. "I can answer all of your questions, Henry-and I can help you remember who you are. But I need something in return,"he waited a second to make sure he had the kid's full attention before he made his request, "I need your support, Henry, and your trust. Because if I have that, then your mother will have no choice but to listen to what I have to say,"

The Saviour's son looked up at him, wide brown eyes unguarded and searching. He could tell the boy was trying to think of a reason not to trust him;he was a smart kid. But not that smart.

"Okay,"Henry acquiesced after thinking it over, nodding his head, "You have a deal," He withdrew one of his small hands from his pocket and held it out for the pirate to shake.

A smile crossed the man's thin lips and he shook the boy's hand to seal the deal. "Excellent,"he said with unconcealed relief, "Then let's go have that talk with your mother,"

He ushered the boy off of his ship, still smiling. Once the boy's back was turned, however, the smile turned faintly crooked. Things were going exactly as_ he _had planned.

He had the kid-now he just needed the parent.

* * *

**Neverland**

This time, things were going to be different.

The new Lost boys didn't require his manipulations. They were the newer, better models of the old ones, He'd changed the enchantment on the pipes, changed it so that they would draw one those who he could trust, those who would follow his orders without question-no matter the reasoning behind them. Those who, like Felix, wouldn't be lured away from Neverland by the promise of _parents _and a _family._

The pipes had done their job;he'd found exactly what he wanted in the new boys. They did their job without question, watching the captives in the Enchanted Forest, along with one of his new allies; the former Sheriff of Storybrooke. The pipes could do more than just entice new recruits-now they had the power to resurrect the dead as well.

Even so, Peter still saw fit to keep a close eye on all of them-all of his new pieces. But they didn't disappoint him; he could see into their souls-and they all belonged to him.

In some cases, that was no surprise. The real reason he'd brought Felix back from the dead was because he was too valuable a piece to lose permanently; and, to be quite honest, the whole Felix being the ''thing he loved most'' was still true. To an extent, he did love the blonde, but he used that love as a weapon and he didn't let it weaken him;that was the difference between him and those ''heroes''. He controlled his emotions, instead of letting them control him.

In the midst of his observations, he sensed someone approaching him at his vantage point at the very edge of the island. Actually, it was _two_ someones-both of which he had been expecting.

"Captain,"he greeted the pirate amicably, a grin quirking the corners of his silken lips as he turned around to face Hook and his right-hand man. Felix stood next to the pirate, eyeing him carefully from underneath the rim of his hood, "You're back soon,"

Hook nodded, no longer quite as tense and unsettled in the eternal boy's presence as he usually was. That was some definite progress there. "I finished off the last of the traitors,"he informed the elder with, Pan noted, a hint of unconcealed vindication. There was the barest trace of a smile on the pirate's lips when he asked, "Is there anything else you want done while I've still got the Saviour on tenterhooks about her family?"

Pan made a soft noise of amusement at the dispassionate was in which Killian referred to his former _love_. He took a step forward and his grin widened when the pirate remained just as relaxed as before. Oh, yes, progress had definitely been made here.

"No, but I will offer you a piece of advice about getting the Saviour to believe,"he stated helpfully, showing his sharp, pointed teeth. Killian raised his eyebrows, but made no move to back away when Pan started to come even closer. "I'm listening,"he prompted the immortal to continue, interested in what Pan would have to say.

The shorter blonde shared a brief look with his other companion before elaborating, "Why don't you see if you can get Henry on your side? He is the key to all of this, after all-and I'll bet he's just dying to hear what you know about him and his family,"

By the time he'd finished speaking, he was standing barely inches away from the one-handed pirate and he could almost see the wheels turning in Hook's brain while he mulled over Peter's advice.

"That's not a bad idea, actually,"he mused after a moment's pause, acknowledging Pan's cleverness with a tilt of his head.

He smiled slightly when he felt the boy's thin fingers on his cheek and he didn't pull away from the contact, not even when Peter leaned in until their foreheads were nearly touching and he could feel warm breath against his lips. He was no longer afraid of this;he no longer had any any desire to deny what was between him and Pan, because it definitely wasn't going away anytime soon-and he wasn't even sure he wanted it to.

Everything else just basically fell away when he felt Pan whisper into his mouth. "I've missed having you on my side, Killian,"the demon purred lowly, cupping the pirate's chin with an uncharacteristic tenderness. Killian reciprocated eagerly when he felt himself being pulled into a brief kiss. "It's good to have you back."

Hook allowed himself be coaxed into a second, deeper kiss, opening his mouth and inviting the other in. The man he'd been prior to Pan's return, the one who had been willing to sacrifice his life to save Emma and to help her save her son was gone now.

It went without saying that he'd never expected to find himself back here;underneath Pan's thumb, his tool and, in essence, his possession, doing his dirty work once again. The thing he really hadn't expected, though, was to be enjoying this just as much as he had the first time. He had become a killer and a liar once again-and he was loving every second of it.

This was no doubt what Pan had had in mind the entire time when he'd asked Killian to come and work for him again. He'd wanted Hook to see that this was truly who he was meant to be;being a hero was just not something he was cut out for. He'd tried it to win Emma over, so she'd see him as something more than a reluctant ally, but that would never have been enough. Emma wouldn't have been enough to permanently make him change who he was.

He didn't need any of that anymore, though. For all of his shortcomings, Peter Pan did have one exponentially redeeming quality:he never lied. He might make certain edits or omissions, but he never outright lied. And he didn't accept lies, either;he, above everyone else, had known that Killian had only been lying to himself by trying to play the hero and going against him.

That was over now.

When they broke apart and after the pirate had left to finish what he had started with Emma and Henry, Felix spoke up. "Are you sure it's wise, trusting him again after what he did?"he queried in a neutral tone, doing something he very rarely did:questioning his leader.

Peter waved a hand carelessly, dismissing his concerns. "You're forgetting one very important thing, Felix,"he chided the taller boy playfully, smile still firmly in place. He waited a beat before elaborating, "I own our dear pirate;mind, body and soul. And I've made sure that he _never_ forgets it again,"

That didn't really assuage Felix's concerns, but he knew better than to pry further.

* * *

_The dreams had been getting harder and harder to ignore-and they were no longer occurring only at night. Now he was seeing the haunting images during his waking hours a well._

_It had been three days since the last time he'd gotten a good night's sleep, three days since these unbelievably vivid nightmares had begun. And they were only getting worse._

_Tonight, though, something was different. He didn't have the same sense of foreboding as he usually did when he found himself in the twilight jungle;quite the contrary, actually, he felt rather excited. _

_That wasn't the only difference, though. No, this time, when he found himself in the dimly lit campsite, the only other person there was the blonde boy who seemed to always be present. And he was looking right at Henry._

_That was strange. Before, something had always been happening in the jungle-and he had always already been in the middle of something. This, though, looked like just the beginning._

_When he began to show awareness, a slight smile curved the bright-eyed boy's lips. "Hello, Henry,"he broke the silence, resting his elbow on top of his upraised knee._

_Henry jolted at the sound of his lilting British accent. This didn't seem like a memory or a dream-no, this, this seemed real._

_He clenched his fists, doing his best to hold his ground and not back away in fear. "How-how do you know my name?Who are you?"he asked unsteadily, trying to keep the fear out of his voice._

_The taller boy got to his feet and came to stand in front of him, allowing Henry a closer look at who he was talking to. There was something so familiar about him;the windswept dirty blonde hair, the bottle-green eyes, even the unblemished tawny skin was firmly ingrained in his mind. Henry could have sworn that this boy had been a large part of his past-even though he was pretty sure that the two of them had never met before._

_"I'm an old friend,"he replied evasively, still smiling-though there was something sinister about it, something that didn't look right on his youthful features. Henry nodded indulgently, wondering why on earth he was surprised by that answer._

_"Another old friend who I don't remember,"he surmised flatly, exhaling heavily, "That seems to be happening a lot lately," He met the other's dark stare suspiciously. "How do I know you're not lying?"_

_The blonde chuckled softly, apparently unfazed by the accusation. "You know that we have a history, Henry. I can see it in your eyes;you remember me, even if you don't remember where from,"he quipped firmly, eyes swirling dangerously beneath his lashes. _

_Henry shook his head, unwilling to believe that that was true. How did the boy know?How could he know that Henry had been seeing him everywhere for the last three days?_

_"N-no,"he denied the statement fiercely, but it was without much conviction-and the blonde caught that. _

_"Just think about it a second. You'll see that I'm right,"the elder told him confidently, testing the waters by taking a step closer to the tense eleven-year-old._

_Henry didn't have to take that second, though. He could already sense the truth in the blonde boy's words;no matter how much he didn't want to, he believed them._

_Inhaling deeply, he briefly closed his eyes before opening them and looking up at the taller carefully. "Who are you?"he repeated one of his earlier questions-only this time, it was less out of skepticism and more out of genuine curiosity._

_The latter locked gazes with him and in that single glance, Henry saw a million different things race through his emerald pools. And then he uttered the five last words Henry had been expecting._

_"I'm Peter. Peter Pan."_

* * *

That perhaps wasn't as long as the previous chapter, but I'm going for quality rather than quantity with this story. Anyways, that was fun.


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